


Breaking Free

by SerenityTWD



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Assault, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2018-08-28 02:12:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 70
Words: 183,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8426908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerenityTWD/pseuds/SerenityTWD
Summary: In hopes that he can fix the mistakes he has made in the past, Daryl Dixon is on a mission to find his place in the world and learn to live with the guilt in his heart.
Continuation of Running Wild:
Picks up immediately after the epilogue in Running Wild, so I strongly suggest that you read it first if you haven't already. This story will have its dark moments, as you guys probably already know that I have a fondness for, but will work its way to a better place.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, I decided to suck it up and post the first chapter, although the story is not finished. I hope you guys like my foray into the "fix it" that was requested for our dear Daryl. While I love Running Wild and had no problems with the way it ended, I do love my readers and muse developed this intense need to make those who were unhappy or even angry with me happy again. So, here goes in that attempt to make it happen.
> 
> I am sorry to say that I will not have a set posting schedule as of yet, since there are only seven chapters written as of right now. I will try to post as often as possible, but until I get more finished chapters tucked away, I can't post more than probably once every two weeks right now. We'll see how that goes as I continue to work on the story.
> 
> Hope you all like the first chapter! I am looking forward to seeing the reactions from this story as we go along. Thanks so much!

[ ](http://s31.photobucket.com/user/speclagntx/media/Breaking%20Free%20banner_zps1jut9b0u.jpg.html)

“No one’s gonna save me. The damage has been done. I’m righting all the wrongs. I’m relentless like you made me.”

New Year’s Day “Malevolence”

Daryl stood awkwardly in the center of the bedroom while Mary searched through the closet for a pair of shoes that might fit her, staring at his feet as a trail of blood from the dead man on the floor inched its way across the hardwood towards him. In the darkness of night, the blood looked black and alive as it slowly slithered in his direction.

Glancing further up Nate's prone body, Daryl stared back at the open, glassy eyed stare of death and knew deep inside that he should feel some sort of remorse for taking a life, but he didn't. He briefly wondered if that lack of remorse made him just as much of a monster as the man he had just killed, but brushed aside the thought as quickly as it had popped into his mind as Mary's voice pulled him out of his maudlin thoughts.

“Yeah?” Daryl groused, his voice thick with the emotions that raged inside of him, the ones he shoved beneath the surface so that no one would see the pain he was suffering. Flat voiced and detached, he went to shove his knife back into its sheath and mentally willed his hands to stop shaking long enough to do so. After the second attempt, he finally had the strap secured over the edge of the hilt and clasp secured, and turned to the young woman staring at him from the closet door. “You ready?”

“I...uh, the boots are too big, but I think they'll work.” Her wide green eyes stared out at him from beneath a swatch of hair that had clearly not been washed in days and even in the moonlight lit room, he could see the worry that radiated outwards towards him. She nervously wrung her hands together and took a tentative step in his direction. “Is it far? The place you're taking me to?”

“Couple days, a week maybe. Depends on how much ground we cover during the day.” Daryl glanced down at the boots on her feet and sighed when he realized she wasn't kidding about them being too big. “Them are gonna rub blisters. Put on a couple more pairs of socks for now, maybe we'll find some better ones for you on the way.”

When she nodded and darted back into the closet, he started searching the room for a suitable bag for Mary to carry with extra supplies. He had just about given up on finding anything in that particular room, when the toe of his boot brushed against the thick canvas-like material of a backpack that was just barely poking out from beneath the bed. Leaning down, he grabbed hold of a strap and tugged it out from its hiding spot to rest on top of the bed so he could clear out any unnecessary items. He'd only just gotten the zipper undone when Mary rushed over to his side.

“That's Nate's, he carried it everywhere with him. Please tell me his notebook's in there.” Hope clung to her words as she leaned over the footing of the bed with wide eyes and waited for Daryl to search the bag.

“This one?” Daryl asked as he pulled out a black and white speckled notebook and held it up for Mary to see in the moonlight. “What's so special about it?”

“Yes!” She whooped with joy and started to reach for the notebook, but paused with her outstretched hand in midair. Her body went rigid and she quickly dropped her eyes to stare down at the bedspread. “I'm sorry.”

“What...?” Daryl started, but stopped when he realized what was going on. Tossing the notebook down onto the bed in front of her line of sight, he said, “You ain't got to do that with me. I ain't nothing like that son of a bitch.” It took a few breaths, but Mary slowly angled her head to gaze over at him with curious eyes. “I'm serious, don't do that shit with me. Jus, you know-act normal or something.”

“Yes, sir.”

“It’s Daryl, none of that other sir shit.” Grumbling, Daryl dumped out the rest of the items in the bag onto the bed and added, “What's so special about the notebook anyhow?”

Mary tentatively reached out and grabbed the notebook, as though waiting to see if he was testing her manners or whatever that sick fuck who had held her would call it. Once it was safely in her grasp, she finally met his gaze and answered, “I think it's where he wrote down where he sent the others, the ones I was with when he took us. My-my baby sister might be in here.”

“How many others?” Bag duty momentarily forgotten, Daryl turned his attention to Mary and noticed for the first time just how young she was. Cursing beneath his breath, soft enough that he doubted she even heard him, Daryl figured she couldn't be more than sixteen years old, maybe seventeen, which made him really regret having to ask the next question. “How old's your sister?”

“There were four of us. Me, my sister, Lucy, who's eleven. Then there was Emily, who's fourteen, I think, and Ollie, he's nine.” Mary headed towards the window to use the moonlight to read, giving Daryl wide berth as she made her way around the bed. Flipping through the pages slowly, obviously not wanting to risk missing what she was in search of, she filled Daryl in on what happened to the rest of her group, but it wasn't really necessary since it was a story he had already heard from Lily; Nate had clearly not strayed from the original plan's that Mathias had used. “There weren't many of us at the house, just us and our dad, Emily and her parents, and Ollie and his mom. They came in real late one night, we were all asleep.” Glancing over her shoulder at Daryl, tears sparkled in her eyes and her breath hitched as she tried to keep them at bay. “They killed them. All of them, and took the kids.”

“Yeah, that's how they operated.” Daryl nodded towards the notebook to get her to start reading again and perched on the edge of the bed, even though what he really wanted to do was snatch it out of her hands and search for the information himself. “How long you been here?”

“I don't know, not really. A couple months?” Mary muttered as she flipped another page and squinted in the pale light to read the tightly scribbled words. “It was hot still, real hot, like mid-summer.” She turned another page, squinted even harder and finally yelped with happiness. “There! It's right there. I knew he wrote it down. I knew it!”

Reaching a hand out, Daryl took the notebook from Mary's outstretched hand and studied the handwriting on the page, piecing together the information without bothering to read every single word. Sure enough, the information that Mary was in search of was right there in the middle of the page.

Lucy- 11 / traded  
Ollie- 9/ traded  
Emily- 14/ traded

“What'd he trade them for and not you?” Daryl asked bluntly, not missing her wince at his harsh words. Not being around people for over a year had caused what little people skills he had developed since the outbreak to slip away slowly, something he hadn't realized until that very moment. Softening his voice, he tried again, “Just wondering why them and not you, too? Want to know what I'm working with here.”

“Nate wanted me. For himself.” Mary took a shaky breath and crossed her arms over her chest, wrapping them across her torso and holding herself tightly. “I think anyway, it’s what he made them think. He-He never…I mean,” Mary explained softly, her words trembling as the past reached in and punctured her heart. After a breath, she gave up explaining whatever situation there was between her and Nate and finished telling Daryl about the other kids. “Anyway, Emily didn't look as old as she was. I-I thought she was way younger when we met, she was like twelve and I thought she was maybe nine or ten then. Maybe they wanted younger ones?”

Nodding, keeping his thoughts on perverts who preyed on children to himself, Daryl turned his attention back to the notebook in his hand. The kids had been traded for a meager amount of food and water, a good bit of medical supplies and a crate of alcohol. Disgusted, he pushed past the detailed items and searched further for an idea of their destination. Half a page down, he found the answer he was looking for, or at least, the one he thought he wanted.

“All's it's got is Alabama, near state line.” Daryl shut the book and glanced up at Mary. “That don't narrow it down too much. Gonna take some time, figure out what I can on the road.”

“Then let's go. We're wasting time!” Fueled by the energy of finding her sister, Mary dropped her hands from around her torso and gestured towards the open doorway. When she realized Daryl was still sitting on the bed, having not moved a single inch, anger flashed in her sparkling green eyes momentarily before worry slipped in to replace it. “Why aren't you moving?”

“Cause you ain't going with me. Taking you back to my fam-my people, then I'll go on.” Standing up, he turned his attention back to the open backpack and items scattered out around it, preferring to get back to the task at hand rather than see the heartache on Mary's face. “You ain't gonna do nothing but slow me down anyhow. I can't hunt with you staring over my shoulder.”

“But… we'll be wasting time. Time she might not have,” Mary whispered, the tremor in her voice was nearly his undoing, but Daryl knew without a doubt that the best thing for her was to go back to the lodge where she would be safe. A girl her age had no business tromping across the state in search of a bunch of sick perverts, especially with someone who did nothing but fail at keeping those in his company safe.

“Look, it ain't open for no discussion. You either go where I take you or you can go out on your own.” Daryl barked out gruffly as he got busy rolling up a blanket as tightly as possible to tie beneath the backpack for Mary to use at night. Once it was in place, he marched over to the closet, stomping past the young girl who was now trembling with fright and had tears coursing down her reddened cheeks, he went into the closet and grabbed hold of a sweatshirt and another pair of thick socks. Grabbing the bag off the bed, he shoved the items inside and shoved past Mary to head towards the kitchen, all the while hating himself just a little bit more for causing a kid to be afraid of him and cry.

In the kitchen, he located a couple of cans of food, some bottled water and a first aid kit. No doubt leftover items that Mary's sister and friends had been traded for. Choking down the fiery bile of hatred that bubbled in the back of his throat, Daryl added them to the bag and zipped it up before marching back down the narrow hallway to where Mary was still standing frozen just inside the bedroom door.

“You coming or not?”

Jumping from the sudden sound of his voice behind her, Mary nodded as she swiped shaky hands over her cheeks to wipe away the tears clinging to them. Timidly, she reached out for the bag that he thrust towards her and slipped her thin arms through the straps. He turned and started towards the front of the darkened house, relief filled his heart at the sound of her following behind him, the clomp of her too big boots giving away her location with each step.

“Daryl? How-how are you going to find her?” Mary asked softly as she stepped out onto the front porch behind him.

“Found Nate. Didn't know a damn thing about him, but I found him eventually.” Daryl glanced back at her, eyes wide and shining brightly in the moonlight. “I'll find them. It's what I do.”

Apparently taking him at his word, Mary clomped along behind him across the dew moistened yard and Daryl prayed that he wouldn't let her down.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! I made a deal with myself this week to write a chapter, so I could post a chapter, and it worked! Yay! I'm hoping that sort of productivity sticks around. Thanks so much for the kind words on the first chapter. I truly appreciated them.
> 
> Also, forgot to mention, at the first of each chapter will be a verse from a song that helped me write this story. I cannot write without music and thought I would share some of what helps the creative juices with my wonderful readers, in case you guys were wondering what I was doing.

“When angels fall with broken wings. I can’t give up, I can’t give in. When all is lost and daylight ends, I’ll carry you and we will live forever.”

~Breaking Benjamin “Angels Fall”

Mary Ellen Walters did her best to keep up with Daryl's quick pace, stumbling along behind him in boots that were a solid three sizes too big for her feet. The silent, broody man was anything but friendly, but he was a far more enjoyable to be around than the three men she had spent every waking moment with for the past couple of months. And, as much as she had wished for solidarity during her time with Nate and his henchmen, Mary highly doubted that she would survive very long on her own. The decision to stick with this mystery man was one of self-preservation, that was certain, but it didn't mean that her nerves were any less frazzled than they had been since she had been forced to watch her father die on the rug in front of her that fateful night.

Tripping over a gnarled and raised tree root, Mary muttered a curse as she struggled to regain her footing and remain upright. After flailing around ungracefully, she found her footing and started to jog to catch up to Daryl, but found that he had paused and turned around to not only wait for her to catch up, but also to catch her momentary lack of coordination. “Sorry,” she muttered breathlessly as she scurried across the distance between them. “My foot got caught.”

The scowl he presented her with was anything but friendly, before his darkened gaze traveled southward to her now mud coated boots. “Them damned things ain't nothing but trouble. We gotta find you something else. Damned clomping around like a drunken bull ain't doing nothing but giving our location away.”

“I could take them off,” Mary offered up weakly, neither wanting to offend her savior with the noise she was making while wearing the boots, but also not quite in the mood to trudge through the damp woods with nothing on her feet but socks.

Thankfully, the withering look that Daryl shot her let Mary know real quickly how he felt about her pathetically offered suggestion. “We'll stop at the next town for the night. Maybe you can find something there.”

“The next town? How do you even know where we are?” Mary shoved a sweat moistened lock of dirty hair back away from her face and hustled after Daryl, who had turned his back to her and carried on the mission without bothering to ask if she was okay to do so.

“I just do,” he replied gruffly, without offering up any further information as to how he knew where they were. To Mary, it looked as if they were lost in the middle of the woods with no end in sight thanks to the trees spreading out in every direction.

“But, how? It's just trees and stuff, how do you know?” She asked again, the bundle of nerves in the pit of her stomach giving way to what could only be called a case of diarrhea mouth, a common occurrence in her life when she got nervous. It was like the more she talked, the less frazzled her nerves felt.

Mary pulled up short when Daryl suddenly stopped in front of her and sighed audibly in frustration. He shoved the long dark thatch of hair that had escaped the confines of its ponytail away from his face and glared back at her. “Cause I marked it. See?”

Following his line of sight and outstretched hand, Mary's gaze fell upon a notch in a nearby tree and glanced ahead to where Daryl was pointing to next to see another. She had been too busy trying to remain upright to pay attention to the faint markings on the trees as they left the house that had been her prison for weeks. Of course, she wasn't quite sure she would have noticed them even if she hadn't been stumbling over rocks and roots like a drunken idiot. “Oh. Neat. What made you think to do that?”

“You ever shut up?” Daryl's facial features screwed up into an expression of annoyance before he shook his head and turned back around. He stood in place for a moment, before staring up at the sky and contemplating the cloudy blue sight above them. “You just gotta trust me. I know what I'm doing.”

“Trust you? But, I don't know you.” The words were out of Mary's mouth before her mind could consider how Daryl would react to them. Wincing, she offered up a lame apology and wasn't even sure why she did that much, it wasn't like she wasn't telling the truth. She didn't know him. Just because he killed the men keeping her prisoner didn't mean he was any different than them, she had only known him for half a day at the most, but she did so anyway. “I'm sorry.”

“Ain't no reason to be sorry. You're right, you don't know me,” Daryl muttered as he continued to stare up at the sky. “Don't mean you ain't gotta trust me anyhow, right? Unless you wanna stay out here in the woods.”

“Would you really leave me out here? Or back at the house if I'd have stayed?” Mary asked her questions timidly, chewing on her lip nervously as she waited for Daryl's answer.

“Done said I wasn't like them. You didn't want to come? Fine. I'd have left you back there. Leave you out here, if that's what you want.” Daryl dropped his head from the sky and readjusted the pack on his back before speak. “You coming with me though? Then we gotta get back to it, not much longer. Two? Maybe three hours 'til we get somewhere to stay for the night.”

The rest of the trip was completed without another word uttered between the two of them. Mary continued to do her best to keep up and managed to do so without earning any more looks of disgust from Daryl, as well as not breaking her ankle. It was a win-win situation for the moment. Now, however, the end of their trek for the day brought them to a new problem.

Searching what appeared to be a ghost town for a place to sleep safely for the night, and maybe scoring a pair of shoes that fit her better.

Mary knew better than to just dart out into the empty streets, her father had taught her that much before he was murdered. Standing behind the relative safety of Daryl, she peered around his wide shoulders as he slowly scanned the area as they stood just inside the tree line. After several tension filled minutes, he lifted the crossbow off his back, pulled it up close to his face and took a cautious step out into the street. After motioning to her over his shoulder for her to follow, Mary quietly followed closely behind him as he made his way across the empty street and towards the closest storefront to peer inside the dust and grime covered window.

“Looks as good of a place as any to try and find you some shoes,” he said with a quick glance in her direction as he eased around the corner of the store to the front door and nodded towards the handle. “You open and stand back. I'll go in first.”

And that's how they cleared the two block section of the empty town, methodically and as quick as possible. Luckily, whatever town they were in was small enough that there weren't that many stores to check, eight in all since three were inaccessible due to a vehicle pileup that blocked part of one block. After the last building had been cleared, Daryl sat down his bow by the front door and set out shoving a shelving unit in front of the doorway.

“Ain't gonna hold no herd, but should at least cause enough noise to wake us if someone tries to get past.” Grabbing his bow, he started towards the back of the store where there were two small couches for them to sleep on for the evening. He plopped down unceremoniously onto one and pulled his pack into his lap, digging inside in search of something to eat for dinner.

“It's still kind of light out. Why'd we stop already?” Mary wondered as she followed suit and pulled out a dented can of Vienna sausages from her own pack, along with half a bottle of water. “Just seems if the suns still up, we should be walking, right?”

“Next town's too far, sun ain’t gonna be up long enough to make it there,” Daryl muttered around an open can of what looked like beans, which he ate straight out of the can by shaking the contents into his open mouth. Mary cringed at the sight and knew that her mother would be having a fit at the sight, had she made it past the first couple of months after the outbreak to even be around to see what Daryl was doing.

“Makes sense.” Mary dug a squishy sausage out of the can and shoved it into her mouth, only realizing how hungry she was when even the smell of canned sausages made her stomach growl in anticipation.

“Better food back at the lodge. Won't be eating those things forever,” Daryl said suddenly.

“Will you tell me about it? About the people there?”

“Ain't much to tell. Old resort lodge out by Atlanta.” Daryl paused long enough to slurp up the last bits of baked beans from his can and chug down the remainder of the water in his bottle before continuing. “Fifty people or so, maybe more now. I ain't been there in a while.”

“Why not?” Mary asked curiously, wondering why anyone in their right mind would leave behind a safe place to live and their family to be back out on the road, much less out there alone.

“Had my reasons.”

Mary frowned, wishing she could figure out how to get this man who was suddenly in her life to talk. She wasn't fond of sitting around in silence and it seemed like getting Daryl to talk was about as easy as trying to pull teeth out of a rabid canine. She sat her now empty can onto the floor by her feet and leaned back against the stiff, but somewhat clean couch and tried again. “Was it to kill them? To kill Nate and the other two?”

“So what if it was?” Daryl barked back in response, clearly agitated with her attempt at delving into a conversation.

“It's okay if it was, you know? It saved me in the process,” Mary replied softly as she peered out at Daryl from beneath lowered lashes. “They deserved it. To die. He deserved it.”

“Yeah, he did.” Daryl’s reply was short and to the point as he slid down further onto the couch to lean his head back on of the rust colored plaid material. Eyes closed, she was certain he had fallen asleep and had just started to lower herself onto the couch and attempt to get comfortable enough to sleep when he spoke again. “He hurt someone I loved.”

“I'm sorry. No one deserves to go through what Nate did to people.” Mary reached over to tug the blanket on the bottom of her pack loose, waded it up and shoved it under her head to use as a pillow since it was warm enough at the moment to not need to cover up with it. “Is she okay now?”

“Yeah, she's okay now,” Daryl replied gruffly, the sudden thickness in his voice let Mary know without looking at him that he had tears in his eyes. “She ain't hurting no more.”

Mary didn't know what to say in response to Daryl's revelation. Instead of offering up a lame attempt at comfort or an apology, she simply ignored the sniffle and muttered curse and closed her eyes in hopes of getting the first night of unchained sleep she'd had in months and said a silent prayer to whatever God there might be in the sky to watch over her and Daryl and to maybe lessen the pain in their broken hearts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Walking Dead Day! Can't wait to watch the episode later tonight. :) Hoping we get to see some Daryl, because Momma needs her fix.


	3. Chapter 3

“Tired of feeling lost. Tired of letting go. Tear the whole world down.  
Tired of wasted breath. Tired of nothing left. Tear the whole world down.”

~Breaking Benjamin “Failure”

Long before the sun reached the morning sky, the painful memories that his mind refused to forget woke Daryl from a less than restful sleep. Glancing over at the slumbering teenager on the couch across from him, he decided against waking her up so they could get on the road earlier and opted to let her get a few more hours of rest instead. God knows she had been through hell and needed the rest, and it wasn't like letting her sleep for a few more hours was the worst thing in the world. It wasn't like they were on an actual schedule after all, he just had to make sure to get her back to the lodge in one piece.

Easing off the couch, Daryl grimaced when an old spring beneath his ass screeched loudly, but the sound didn't so much as cause Mary to twitch in her sleep. He let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding and stood up, glancing one last time towards Mary before leaving her to go explore the empty store to kill the time until the sun finally made its full ascent into the sky.

A solid hour later, Daryl had prowled, explored and searched every nook and cranny in the old building, which turned out to be an old general store of sorts. It had obviously been searched over the years, since the majority of items that had once been for sale were long since gone or damaged, but in the back storage room he managed to locate exactly what they looking for...a pair of shoes for Mary. As he wrangled them out of the dusty corner of the room, shoving aside the fallen shelving unit that was blocking the body that had been dead for so long that the only parts of it still in the world were a pile of bones and moth eaten clothing. Thankfully, the sneakers were no longer on the feet of the skeleton, more so shoved in between them and the wall, but he still had no intention of explaining to Mary as to the exact location of them whenever he gave them to her. He just hoped they would fit her better than the ones she was currently wearing.

Triumphant in his discovery, Daryl wiped a hand over the grime covered tops of the sneakers and declared them a success, so long as they fit Mary. Navigating his way back through the darkened hallway, he headed back out into the main part of the store to wake up Mary and give her the new sneakers.

Not at all surprised to find her still asleep, he almost hated to wake her up, but knew that getting on the road soon was imperative. The last thing Daryl wanted was to be tied to her any longer than necessary, knowing the longer they stayed together the more likely she would form an attachment to him that he had no desire to develop.

“Wake up,” Daryl gruffly commanded as he nudged Mary’s thigh with the toes of the sneakers in his hand, waiting until she opened her eyes to drop them in her lap. “Try them on.”

Without bothering to verbally acknowledge her groggily spoken words of gratitude, Daryl turned away from Mary and grabbed his backpack and crossbow off the floor; strapping the pack cross his back and slinging the bow over his shoulder before heading towards the front door. At the front of the store, he called out over his shoulder to her before moving the shelving unit out of the way. “I’ll be out front. Need to get on the road soon.”

A few minutes later, Mary shuffled out into the bright morning light and squinted upwards towards the robin’s egg blue sky before glancing over to where he was perched on the windowsill of the storefront. She stuck one foot out towards him and shrugged, “Fits better than the boots at least.”

“Better than nothing, right?” Daryl stood up and craned his neck from side to side, popping it loudly and releasing a bit of the tension that had built up during the night. He scrubbed the palms of his hands over his face, suddenly tired, and dreaded the thought of the miles they had to clear before night fall. He would give his left nut at the moment for a vehicle with a full tank of gas, any vehicle, even one of those prissy eco-friendly ones. But, sadly, this day in age he could wish in one hand and shit in the other and see which one filled up the fastest, knowing that unfortunately he would only be left with a handful of shit in the end. “We got a long one ahead of us. Best get on with it.”

“Ready when you are,” Mary responded with a soft smile and a sweeping gesture of her hand.

Daryl frowned in her direction, taking in the dark circles below her puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. He briefly wondered if he should ask if she was alright or how she slept, any of that small talk that he had never quite gotten the hang of, but didn’t want to do anything to lead her into thinking that he was doing anything more than taking her to a safe place. He didn’t want to be friends, didn’t want her to see him as her savior, and didn’t want to form any bonds that would make dropping her off at the lodge and leaving her at the front door any more difficult on her than it already would be. So, instead of partaking in idle chit chat, he shrugged the crossbow further up onto his shoulder and marched across the street towards the woods.

It was going to be a long, tiring trek filled with tension laden silence, but if there was one thing Daryl Dixon could handle it was silence.

The next five days passed the same as their first one together, walking during the day and sleeping in whatever shelter Daryl could find them during the night. Thus far, he had managed to not only keep Mary safe and sound, but keep her at arm’s length, only answering questions when asked and even then, not offering any more than what was necessary. The first two days had been downright miserable as Mary asked one question after the other in a failed attempt to calm her nerves, but thankfully by day three she had learned to follow along behind him quietly.

Now, exhausted, hungry and dirty, they marched single file down the empty road that would lead them to the end of their journey together. They were both on their last dregs of energy, their packs now completely out of food and the meager meal that Daryl had killed for them right at sunrise had long since burned off. And, to top of the misery that hunger brought, the skies had opened several miles back and sent a torrential downpour straight down onto their heads, leaving them wet and cold to boot. The final day of their journey had been anything but stellar.

Daryl stopped suddenly, glancing over his shoulder to find Mary standing a few feet back with a frown tugging down the corners of her mouth and her hair plastered against her head. She looked as miserable as he felt, and as bad as he no doubt looked.

“Why’re we stopping here?” Mary asked before he could tell her the reasoning behind their break. Looking around, her expression went from cranky and exhausted to downright unhappy; fatigue leading her to pout like a petulant teenager. “We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

“We ain’t got much further,” Daryl dropped his gear onto the pavement below and dug through the front pocket of his backpack in search of a rubber band that he thought might be buried inside. Tugging one free from the random items that had been shoved in there over the past year, he glanced up to Mary and explained the situation while securing his ridiculously long hair back away from his face. “It’s been a while since I left. Just wanted to let you know there’s a chance that getting in ain’t gonna go smoothly. Depends on who’s working the gate.”

“But they’re going to let us in, right? They aren’t going to send us away are they?” Mary nervously chewed on her bottom lip and Daryl cursed the tears and worry he saw shining in her eyes.

“Yeah, just might not be right away.” Standing up, Daryl shrugged into the straps of the backpack and then secured the crossbow over it. No sense in walking up to the gate fully armed, because depending on who was working the gate having his bow in his hands might not go well for him. He shoved a stray lock of wet hair away from his face and then scrubbed the palm over the hair on his cheeks. He had never been able to grow a full beard, mostly just patches of hair with splotches of skin showing through, but over the past year those splotches had filled in and the end result was a beard that was a lot thicker than the one he had left with. Nothing that would rival that of Rick’s beard back in the day, but a beard in its own right. However, the extra hair on his face and longer ponytail probably made him look completely different than when he left over a year ago.

Frowning at his own thoughts, he realized that getting past the gates might prove to be more difficult than he had originally thought, especially if there were new guards at the tower. Shrugging, figuring they would never know until they tried, Daryl turned to start walking again and motioned for Mary to not only follow, but to walk beside him. “Look, it’s been a long time since I left. We just gotta be careful is all.”

“Okay, if you’re sure,” Mary said as she scampered along beside him, although the expression on her face showed just how uncertain she was of the situation.

As they crested the slight hill just outside of the lodge, the manmade gates rose before them. The front entrance had not changed since he walked past the gates on what he had honestly thought might be a suicide mission, but from where he was standing the young man perched inside the guard tower wasn’t recognizable.

“Hold up, stop where you are!” The guard in question called out to them, gun raised and pointed directly towards them.

Daryl noticed that he didn’t have his finger on the trigger just yet and he breathed a momentary sigh of relief. Holding his hands up in front of him, palms turned outward, Daryl let them know that he wasn’t holding any weapons and therefor, wasn’t a threat at the moment. He gestured towards Mary to do the same thing and when she did, called out to the guards. “We ain’t no threat. Gonna need to go get Rick, he can vouch for me.”

Daryl held his breath for a brief moment as the guard simply stared at him in return before finally turning to say something to someone standing below him. The guard turned back to stare at them before stepping back out of the way to let someone else climb up into the tower and a wave of relief washed over him at the sight of a thick swatch of bright orange hair poked up above the wall before Abraham Ford’s massive frame came into full view.

“Well hell, slap me on the ass and call me Sally!” Abe exclaimed with an expression of genuine happiness on his face. “Didn’t ever think we’d see your ugly mug around here again, Dixon!”

“You gonna let me in or just keep flappin’ your mouth?” Daryl called out, the half grin on his face hopefully letting the slack jawed teenager beside him know that what was going on was just a round of good-natured ribbing between old friends.

“Open up them gates!” Abe’s deep voice boomed loudly as he called out to whomever was standing on the other side of the massive metal structure, before turning his attention back to Daryl and Mary as the gates slowly started to open. “Dixon, get your sorry ass in here!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Walking Dead day! What'd everyone think of last week's episode? I, personally, was not quite prepared for Daryl all naked, yowzer. Even grimy, stanky and sporting dog food breath, that man gets my motor running. Sigh.
> 
> Anywho, hope you all like tonight's chapter! I appreciate the reviews so much, and muse does, too. Heck, she was all sorts of inspired this week and helped me churn out three whole chapters! Can you believe it?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting, but I was home sick with the stomach flu and anything other than blinking or breathing was just too much work. Thanks for the reviews last week!

_“I’ll be coming home, just to be alone…Cause I know you’re not there and I know that you don’t care. I can hardly wait to leave this place.”_

~Three Days Grace “Home”

The autumn air was crisp, the gentle breeze rustled leaves around Rick Grimes's boot covered feet as he leaned down beside a stalk of corn to drop two cobs into the basket on the ground. Straightening, he glanced down the row of corn to see how much further he had to go before being able to call it a day, and realized that there were fewer left than he thought. If everyone in the field that day moved at the same rate as he had, they would finish up picking the final crop of corn before sundown.

Grabbing hold of the worn handles of the basket nearly full of corn, Rick started to move to the next row when he heard his name being bellowed from the direction of the lodge. Glancing up, he squinted against the later afternoon sun and found Carl barreling down the hill towards him as though a pack of wolves were hot on his tail.

Concerned, Rick dropped the basket to the ground and started towards his son. “What's wrong?” he called out as Carl drew near.

“Daryl!” Carl called out, his normally deepened voice an octave higher thanks to the excitement in his words. “Daryl's back!”

Corn instantly forgotten, Rick's pace increased threefold as he caught up with his son. “Daryl? He's here?” Pleased and shocked, happiness and relief coursed through him as a smile broke out across his face. Last winter when Daryl had walked out of their lives, sorrow weighing heavy on his soul and guilt eating away at him, Rick had hoped and prayed that he would return safely, but as the months slipped by without Daryl returning, Rick had feared the worst.

“Yeah, Abe sent me to get you,” Carl gestured towards the lodge and continued, “He's taking them to the kitchen.”

“Them?”

“Daryl and some girl. Guess he picked someone up on the road?” Carl fell into step alongside his father as they hurried up the hill towards the lodge. “I didn't even get a chance to see Daryl, before Abe yelled at me to find you.”

“As long as he's home, I don't care who or how many he's brought with him.” Rick nearly choked on the emotions coursing through his body at that moment, and knew the full extent of relief wouldn't wash over him until his eyes rested on the man he had taken to calling his brother many years ago.

Darting past the murky green pool, Rick pushed open the back door and hurried towards the kitchen, not at all surprised to find a throng of bodies blocking the entrance. Navigating his way through the mass of curious people, most of whom hadn't known Daryl very well prior to his departure but were curious about his return, his cheeks nearly burst from the smile on his face when his eyes rested on the grimy, long haired, dirt infested Daryl Dixon. Paying no mind to the layers of filth and the impressive stench that radiated off of Daryl, Rick enveloped him in a bear hug.

“About time you showed back up here,” Rick said gruffly, as he tried his best to keep the tears stinging in his eyes at bay; happiness and relief over having Daryl home safely nearly too much to contain. Pulling away from the embrace, Rick met Daryl's tired eyes and said, "It's good to have you home."

He never expected Daryl to comment on how happy he was to be home, being a man of few words, but Rick had at least expected to see the same relief shining back at him in the depths of Daryl's blue eyes. But, what he saw staring back at him was anything but relief or happiness. In fact, what he found was the same sorrow and grief, heartache and pain that had been evident in Daryl's gaze when he left over a year ago staring back at him.

Concerned, Rick made a note to pull Daryl aside as soon as possible and have a chat with him, knowing full well that the questions he wanted to ask would be unwanted and go unanswered if asked in front of the mass of bodies surrounding them. Instead, he asked one solitary question before dropping the matter completely for the time being, "You get what you were after taken care of?"

A shadow fell across Daryl's gaze, darkening it further than it already was, before he offered up a quick nod of the head and bone thin answer to Rick's question. "He ain't no worry no more." Daryl tilted his head towards the young woman standing beside him, her hair a fury of tangles and tired eyes filled with worry, and said, "Found her there. Name's Mary, said she could stay here."

Understanding exactly what Daryl was conveying with little words, Rick glanced towards Mary and realized that beneath the layers of dirt and grime she was younger than he had first thought. Younger than Carl, if his assumption was correct, but a thorough scrubbing would make determining her age by sight an easier task. His stomach churned at the thought of her tied up the way Lily had once described to him in harrowing detail. She was just a child, for Christ's sake.

Rick pushed aside the anger churning in his stomach and softened what had to be an intense expression as his mind recalled the nightmare's that Lily had been subjected to and superimposed them onto the teenager in front of him. "Of course.”

“Thank you,” Mary replied quietly, her nervousness noticeable in the slight tremor in her voice and the way her hands knotted together where they were clutched tightly against her stomach. She glanced up at him beneath a thick fringe of dark lashes and said, “I don't have anywhere else to go. Daryl said it'd be okay, but I wasn't sure. I'll pull my weight around here. I promise.”

“You're more than welcome here.” Rick assured the teen. The father in him wished like hell that he could erase all the trauma that had been inflicted upon her, while the law enforcement official inside of him wanted nothing more than to bring the offender to justice. However, on both accounts, there was nothing he could do about either situation, seeing as how he couldn't go back in time and fix all the wrongs that had been committed, and he knew without a doubt that whatever punishment Daryl had doled out on the man was more than the judicial systems of the past would have ever done.

Glancing back to Daryl, he took in the haggard and disheveled appearance once more. The sorrow that hollowed and darkened his eyes, and the nearly desolate expression that could only be explained by the weight of guilt on his heart and the darkness of anger could cause. Daryl's dark hair fell past his shoulders, gnarled around his face in a thicket of knots and, if Rick wasn't mistaken, held more than its fair share of leaves and twigs amidst the long locks. Dirt smeared across his face, etched into the faint lines around his eyes, clung to the whiskers adorning his face, and had long since embedded itself in the worn garments that had seen better days.

The pair were in desperate need of a bath and a good night's sleep, but more importantly, they needed food. Given the gaunt appearance to both their faces, it had been more than a couple of days since they'd had a decent meal. Gesturing towards their gear, little more than Daryl's bow and a backpack for the both of them, Rick suggested they leave it in the lobby and had barely suggested a meal when the sound of a child's squeal tore through the room.

Glancing over his shoulder towards the sound, he saw his daughter tearing down the last flight of stairs towards the lobby with Carol in tow. The beaming looks of happiness on their faces showed they were more than aware that their favorite member of their original group had returned home.

Judith flew across the tiled lobby floor, pushing whomever she needed to out of the way to reach Daryl and launched herself into his arms with a shriek of sheer joy. Rick watched with a swelling heart and a tear in his eye as Daryl held onto Judith and gave into the first sign of true emotion since he had walked through the door. Pure love and elation filled Daryl's deep blue eyes, pushing away the sadness that had only been there a moment before. Add in the additional embrace from Carol, and Rick couldn't help but give way to the smile that spread across his face.

When his daughter pulled back from Daryl and scrunched her nose and stated with the honesty that only a child could manage, “You stink, Uncle Daryl.” Well, Rick couldn't contain his laughter and enjoyed the lighthearted moment that they hadn't had around the lodge in a long time.

With a throaty laugh, Daryl said, “Yeah, kid, I guess I do.” The smile in his eyes darkened as he let Judith slide to the floor to stand beside him, clutching his hand despite the proclamations of how badly he had failed in the hygiene department.

“Y'all want to eat first or clean up?” Rick asked, figuring on the former rather than the latter, but he thought he would offer a choice just in case. “Dinner should be about ready. Right, Carol?”

“I was just about to ring the dinner bell,” Carol confirmed, earning a disgruntled huff from Judith, which caused her to add, “Correction, Judith was about to ring the dinner bell. I just had to track her down first.”

The bell was a fairly new addition, one added when Judith had located the old service bell from the early days when the lodge was up and running, and had decided that they needed to have a way to announce that it was time to eat. Not that everyone at the lodge wasn't aware of when to make their way towards the restaurant, but during the summer months it helped notify the ones that were occupied outside and might not be aware of the time.

Carol ushered Judith in the direction of the restaurant so she could announce the start of dinner, with the rest of the crew in the lobby following along behind them. A reluctant Mary hovered towards the rear of the group and Rick was grateful when Carl and his girlfriend, Katie, eased towards the anxious teen and struck up a conversation with her. The relieved look on Mary's face and eased tension in her previously stiffened posture offered Rick a bit of relief, too. In just that limited amount of interaction he'd had with the teen, as well as what he had just witnessed with Carl and the girls, showed him that whatever had happened with Mary before Daryl had found her was very unlikely to have been as horrific as what Lily had experienced. He knew this in part from his years as a deputy, his gut instincts and the fact that even though Lily had been with them for months, eating and sleeping under the same roof, she had never truly relaxed around anyone there, not even with Daryl. 

Rick was ashamed at the relief he felt for the realization that Mary likely wasn't as messed up as Lily. He knew that the way Lily was after she found her way back to them wasn't her fault, but he just wasn't ready to have another volatile situation on their hands once again. The past year had been boring to say the least, and he was more than willing to live day in and day out with an almost mind-numbing boredom over the other option.

He just hoped that Daryl could settle back into the daily grind now that his mission was complete, finally forgive himself and learn to live again.  



	5. Chapter 5

_“I will fall and rise above, and in your hate I find love. ‘Cause I’m a survivor. Yeah, I’m a fighter.”_

~In This Moment “The Fighter”

 

Mary watched with rapt fascination as the hard, coarse look that Daryl typically sported softened as the excited child scrambled into his arms. Bewildered by the honest to goodness smile on her rescuers face, Mary watched as he seemed to evolve into an entirely different man for the few minutes the child was in his arms. The shimmer in his eyes were a far cry from the darkened shadows that typically haunted them, and the hardened expression that usually glared back at her was softened by the love that he obviously felt for the little girl.

She wasn't stupid, she understood that the people they were now weren't the people they were before the outbreak, but seeing how quickly Daryl's demeanor could change by the simple presence of a child had her wondering exactly who he was before.

Lost in thought, Mary missed the end of the conversation and jumped in surprise when someone tapped her on the shoulder. Glancing to the side, her eyes locked in on a set of blue eyes that were close to being covered up by a shaggy head of hair. Offering up an apologetic smile, she asked, “I'm sorry, what?”

“I uh, was just saying you could eat with us if you want,” he repeated, before introducing himself. “I'm Carl, this is Katie and Haleigh,” he gestured towards the two girls with him, one of which smiled in return as the other simply stared at Mary with a glint to her eye that was far from friendly as she stepped closer to Carl and wrapped her hand around his.

Picking up on the obvious signs of ownership that Katie was putting out, Mary mentally rolled her eyes at the childish, high school behavior as she politely greeted each of them in return. “Thanks. I...well, it looks like Daryl's going to be a while anyway.” She nodded towards the corner of the room where Daryl was crouched down with his face buried in the fur of a very large dog. “Guess he missed his dog. Not that I blame him, I miss mine, too.”

“Oh, that's not his, not really. That’s his crazy ass girlfriend's dog,” Katie replied sourly, as the edge of her lip curled up in obvious distaste. While the girl had not done anything directly hateful towards Mary, she was pretty sure she didn't like Katie and hoped that the other girls her age at the lodge were nothing like the girl.

“She wasn't crazy,” Carl replied quickly, the tone in his voice a little sharp as he rolled his eyes at his girlfriend's comment.

“Sure she wasn't. Because it's so normal to freak out on people for no reason? She flipped out over seeing her dog tied up to a tree, like it's uncommon to see a dog on a freaking leash or something,” Katie snapped back, a look of pure disgust on her face. Katie hooked her thumb towards another girl in the small group and added, “Plus, she scared the hell out of Haleigh that day in the storage room for no reason at all. Just freaked out, as usual. The girl was certifiably crazy. I'm glad she's gone. Just wish she'd taken that disgusting mutt with her.”

“She was scared, Katie,” Haleigh added, her long honey colored ponytail twitched from side to side as she shook her head in opposition to what her friend was saying. “She didn't do anything to me, I just scared her because I looked like someone she knew or something.”

“Yeah, you go through what she did and see how you act after,” Carl glared at Katie, the annoyance in his blue eyed stare as sharp as the bite in the tone of his words. “Lily had problems, but it wasn't like she didn't have a reason to have them.”

“Yeah, well, justified or not, she was crazy. I'm just saying I'm glad she's gone,” Katie retorted, clearly not appreciative of having her boyfriend defend another woman, instead of taking her side in the matter. “It's been nice not having to walk around on egg shells anymore.”

Mary fell in to step with the trio when they started to move with the rest of the crowd. Curious, she gave a quick glance towards Daryl to make sure he was still with the dog and thus, out of hearing range, she asked, “What happened to her?"

“That guy that Daryl killed? The one you were with? He was with these other two guys that kept her in a basement for a few years.” Carl cut his eyes towards Mary, pausing with his explanation as those baby blues studied her uncomfortably for a moment. “They hurt her. Real bad.”

Mary picked up on the emphasis that Carl put on just how badly Daryl's girlfriend had been hurt at a split second before she realized why the name Lily sounded so familiar. Gasping, she halted in the hallway and slapped a hand over her mouth. Jerking her head around, she stared at Daryl with wide, tear-filled eyes and choked back a solitary sob of grief.

“What's wrong?” Rick's voice filled the air around them, penetrating the uncomfortable silence that had fallen around them. Obvious concern was written all over the man's face as he stared down at her with questions in the blue eyed gaze that matched his son. “Are you alright?”

“I'm fine,” Mary answered quickly, “I am, really. It's just...they were telling me about Daryl's girlfriend, about Lily, and I just realized I knew who they were talking about. Or, well, knew of. I mean, I never met her or anything. They, um...Nate, the guy that Daryl saved me from? He told me about her, about what they did to her...he told me everything and said that's what would happen to me if I didn't do what he said.”

From beside her, Katie muttered something under her breath about freaks, but chose to ignore the comment for the moment, since Carl's father was there looking quite intense. She wiped away the tears that had sprung up at the realization and took a breath to calm herself, before adding, “I just didn't know that she was with Daryl, his girlfriend or whatever.”

“Carl, ya'll go on in and get settled,” Rick motioned for his son and the two girls to leave them alone and Mary's stomach clenched at the expression on his face. Once the trio pushed their way through the doorway, he glanced down at her and paused with a look of uncertainty on his face, before finally speaking. “I wanted to wait and have one of the women here talk to you, but it's probably for the best to go ahead and ask. Do you need medical attention?” At the look of complete and utter confusion that was obviously sketched on Mary's face, Rick added, “For anything that Nate or anyone else there did to you?”

“Oh! No, I'm fine. He didn't hurt me,” Mary stammered over her words as a knot of anxiety formed in her stomach. She crossed her arms over her torso, protectively holding herself, and added at Rick's disbelieving glare, “I swear it. He...Nate? He hit me a few times, but I'm okay. That's all he did. I wasn't there, with him, long.”

“I understand if you don't want to tell me everything, but I want you to know that you're safe here. Whatever happened to you won't happen again, not here.” Sadness filled his eyes as he studied her intently, making Mary feel damned close to uncomfortable with the intensity of his stare. “We got a doctor here, if you need to have him look you over or...”

Mary was beyond thankful when Rick's sentence drifted off, the discomfort in the conversation evident for the both of them. She nodded once, understanding what he was asking and knew that her reassurances weren't going to make him understand that nothing outside of a few punches and kicks happened during her stay with Nate and his cronies, but couldn’t quite muster up the courage to explain everything that had happened to her during her stay with the men. She didn’t know the man in front of her and no matter how many times Daryl insisted that this Rick man would be understanding of her situation, she didn’t feel comfortable telling him that she was fairly certain the only reason Nate hadn’t raped her was because he was gay. Not that she was a hundred percent certain, but the few times he had shown interest in her had been punctuated by a flaccid penis, which was what set off his anger and resulted in a beating instead. Couple that with the looks of interest she had seen him give his buddies, and Mary was fairly certain that her captor was gay and not at all comfortable with it either.

So, instead of explaining her suspicions to the complete stranger in front of her, Mary crossed her arms protectively over her midsection and mumbled, “He didn’t do anything. I’m fine.”

Rick nodded, but the expression on his face plainly told Mary that he didn't believe her, but thankfully, he let the discussion drop after making one more mention of medical attention being available if she needed it. “Thanks, but I don't. Only thing I need besides some food and definitely a bath is my baby sister, and Daryl already said he'd work on that for me, so I'm good. Thanks though, for everything.”

“Your sister? Daryl's taking care of your sister?” Rick repeated as he glanced over his shoulder towards Daryl, who was finally getting back to his feet and turning towards them. “Daryl? What's she talking about?”

Confused, Daryl glanced at Mary questioningly and she explained, “About my sister? How you'd find her for me.”

“Nate traded off her sister before I found her, told the kid I'd find her for her.” Daryl explained as he headed towards them, Wolf following closely on his heels. Mary felt sadness tug at her heart at the sight of the harsh lines and darkened gleam that had settled back into place as he started towards them.

“You're leaving again?” Mary stared, wide eyed with discomfort at the tension in Rick's voice as he stared Daryl down. “I thought taking care of Nate was it that you'd come home and stay after.”

“Yeah, well, plans changed,” Daryl replied gruffly with a shrug of nonchalance, as though the tension in Rick's voice and posture didn't affect him in the least. Shaking the bangs out of his face, Daryl shoved back a thatch of dark, dirty locks and added, “Didn't figure she'd make it here alone. Figured I'd drop her off and head back out.”

“Head back out?” The sharpness in the female's voice added another level of discomfort to the conversation. Mary stepped back against the hallway wall and tried her best at becoming a wallflower, a task that she had never quite mastered, and tried to stay out of the conversation as the older woman with dark gray hair stepped closer. “You just got here.”

Mary felt bad for Daryl as he seemed to shrink away from the confrontation, just as she was trying to do. He offered up a shrug in response to the woman and started to slide past her to go into the restaurant with the others, but the woman grabbed hold of his bicep and tugged him to a stop.

“Daryl, you can't save the world,” the woman exclaimed as she pleaded with him to stop and listen to her, but her words fell on deaf ears as he simply shrugged out of her grasp and stormed down the hallway, away from them and the food that he had originally been in search of.

“Carol, let him go,” Rick said softly as he circled a hand around the woman's thin arm, holding her back when she started after Daryl. “Give him time.”

Frozen, Mary stood rooted in place as Daryl disappeared from sight, dog in tow. Nestled uncomfortably between Rick and the woman who was now silently wiping away the tears that glistened in her eyes. Not wanting to call attention to herself by moving towards the doorway to the restaurant or following after Daryl, she simply stayed put and waited for an opportunity to move to present itself.

“Give him time? How much time does he need? It's been over a year,” Carol argued as she pulled away from Rick's hold in the same manner as Daryl had done to her. “He can't save everyone because he lost her! When is he going to get that through his head? You have to make him stay, Rick.”

“He's working through it the only way he knows how, Carol.” Rick paused and looked over at Mary, as though finally remembering that she was in the hallway with them and thus, their conversation wasn't private. She didn't miss the way he communicated with Carol without talking, silently letting her know that the conversation was over for the moment, or the small glance in her direction as to why. “I'll talk to him.”

As if noticing her for the first time, Carol turned to Mary and offered up a bright, obviously forced smile and said, “I'm sorry, you must be starving. Let's get you in there before everything's gone.”

“Thank you,” Mary muttered softly in response as she was ushered towards the restaurant with a thick blanket of tension wrapped around their small trio. What on earth had she started by mentioning her sister? She obviously wanted Lucy rescued and safe with her, but at what cost to Daryl's life would that miracle take?

She hated to put any more strife on his shoulders, but she was just selfish enough to brush that concern aside if it meant the safe return of her baby sister. Mary had no idea how Daryl was even going to track down the men that had taken Lucy, but she knew that if anyone left alive in the world could take on that task and win, that person was Daryl Dixon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the reviews last week! I hope you all like tonight's installment.


	6. Chapter 6

_“And when she died,_  
I should’ve cried and spared myself some pain.  
Left me incomplete,  
All alone as the memories still remain.” 

~Pantera “Cemetery Gates”

The deep golden hue of the fading afternoon sun flickered through the autumn colored leaves on the trees that surrounded the patio and swimming pool that was once a spectacular shimmering blue, but now only boasted a color that more closely resembled the green hues of a cluster of moss instead. Brown leaves floated on top of the murky surface, the first victims of the coming winter having given up their fight at life to litter the grounds beneath the trees that had once been their home.

The rustle of leaves surrounded him, broken only by the occasional chirp from a nearby bird or the sound of the water from the lake lapping against the muddy shore, but otherwise silence consumed him. Even the dog at his feet understood Daryl's need for quiet, for a moment to be alone and catch his breath, to sit with his thoughts and not have anyone poke and prod at him, questioning him about his intentions and desires.

Eventually, the growling of his stomach, the deep sharp ache of hunger, clawed at him and forced him from the rusty chaise lounge that he used to watch Lily sleep on at night when she thought she was alone. With an exhausted sigh, Daryl hauled himself off the creaky furniture and headed for the side door that would take him into the restaurant where his family and the rest of the community was undoubtedly eating dinner, and very likely wondering when he would relent and show himself again.

He pushed through the door and held it open long enough for Wolf to follow in behind him. Daryl grunted and glared at the dog as he pushed his massive, furry frame past his legs and simply sat just inside the doorway staring up at him, no doubt waiting to see where Daryl was going first.

While he would rather slip out the front door and into the woods, disappearing on his next mission without any of the awkward goodbyes and inevitable arguments, the part of him that had missed his family refused to let him do so. He breathed out a grunt of displeasure, glared at the beast at his feet, and marched towards the entrance to the restaurant with the stony glare of a man on a mission that he had no desire to partake in.

Once inside the familiar room, the wooden tables scattered about shimmered from the candlelight and a fire roared in the fireplace, despite the relatively comfortable temperature outside, Daryl shrugged off the backpack that still rested on his back and let it drop to down to the floor by the entrance, along with his crossbow. Focusing a little more on the floor than necessary, he stuck to the side of the room and slunk through the shadows on the edge of the restaurant as he made his way towards the tables where the food was laid out buffet style.

As someone who had always eaten to live, as opposed to living to eat, Daryl paid little attention to the food that he piled on his plate; choosing the proteins and carbohydrates that he would need to fuel his next trek, instead of focusing on what might appeal to his palate. He could feel the weight of the curious stares burning a hole through the back of his head as he wound his way through the mass of tables towards the one in the corner he had always preferred to sit at before Lily. Alone, the way he liked it.

Elbows on the table, his long, dirty hair fell around him like a protective curtain, blocking out the rest of the room and the uncomfortable silence that had filled the area when he had entered the restaurant. Without using any of the flatware that had been placed on the buffet table, he dug into the strips of roasted meat and dense chunks of bread like the starved man that he was.

While he had killed what he could over the past week with Mary, he hadn't ventured out into the woods for any real hunting since he hadn't wanted to leave the teenager alone to do so. They had survived on the random squirrel or possum and whatever meager scraps they could scrounge in the houses or buildings they hunkered down in during the nights, often living off of a can of expired vegetables or soups between the two of them. Had their trek taken longer than it had, he would have had to resort to tucking the teen out of sight so he could find more substantial food for them, but with the whole trip taking less than a week, he had figured they would survive and, as usual when it came to the task of survival, he had been correct.

Lost in his own thoughts and the task of choking down as much food as his stomach could handle, the sound of chair legs scraping against the wooden floor pulled his attention elsewhere. Glancing up sharply, his shadowed eyes locked in on the haunted ones that had followed behind him for the past several days. Grimacing, he gruffly ground out his displeasure over having her join his table, “Didn't ask for no company.”

“Yeah, they said that you...um, normally sit alone,” Mary replied timidly, tucking a stray lock of limp, dirty hair behind her ear. Shrugging one narrow shoulder, she picked up a piece of bread and nibbled on the edge before adding, “But, I don't know...I thought maybe you'd want someone to talk to or something. Sitting alone seems so, you know? Sad.”

“Or, just means I don't want no one over here,” Daryl growled in response as he turned his attention back to the food on his plate. Faster he ate, faster he could get back on the road. “Go on back to the kid's table. Best get used to me not being around anyhow.”

“I don't think Carl's girlfriend appreciates me being over there very much.” Mary glanced towards the table she had vacated to catch Katie glaring at her with obvious distaste on her face. She wasn't exactly worried about the less than friendly reception from Katie, she had dealt with mean girls back in junior high before the world fell apart. She could do it again if she had to.

Turning her attention back to Daryl, whom had already cleared half the heaping plate in front of him, she poked at the food on her own plate and curiously asked, “Daryl? Why do you want to leave so bad? It seems nice here. I don't get it.”

“Ain't none of your business. Just don't,” Daryl grunted and shoved the last piece of meat into his mouth, chewing loudly with his mouth open while he answered Mary's questions. “Worked out for you, didn't it?”

“Yes, and I can't thank you enough for it, but I just....I just don't get why someone would leave all of this to be alone is all.” Mary offered him a sad smile as she nibbled at a roasted carrot. “They're your family, why do you leave them? How?”

“You want me to stay then? Leave the kid out there and stay here?” Daryl growled, more than fed up with the prying questions from the teenager who should be running away from him without looking back, but for some reason refused to do so. Shoving the final piece of bread on his plate in his mouth, he pushed back from the table and stood up, but remained standing at the table. “Is that what you want? I don't got to go nowhere. Can leave your sister out there to die, if that's what you want.”

“No! I didn't say that! I want her here, if you can find her.” Mary sniffled and a sharp pain of regret pinched at his heart as tears welled up in her eyes. Once again he had been a dick and made a kid cry. Yeah, he was such a fucking hero.

“Look, I had shit that needed to be done. I did it and got you. Now I got other shit that needs to get done,” Daryl explained harshly as he gathered up the empty plate and glass on the table. He shoved the chair behind him further back with the sole of his boot and turned to leave. Feeling like an utter shit at the sound of Mary's tear filled sniffles, he softened slightly and added, “I'll find her. Bring her back. Maybe then I can come home.”

Then, without another word to the girl he had rescued or the family he had walked out on, he dropped the dishes in his hands into the allocated bin, gathered up his belongings by the door and marched out of the restaurant.

Of course, he didn't get far before the sound of the frosted glass double doors swooshed open and banged shut behind him. He should have known that someone would follow behind him and, if he had to make a guess as to who it was, his money was on Rick. Stopping near the front door, head down he stared at the crack in the tile beneath his feet as his friend, his brother stalked across the lobby towards him.

“Leaving without saying goodbye again?” Rick asked, his voice tight as he obviously fought to control the emotions of rage and hurt that had to hurt his heart. “You just got back, Daryl.”

“Yeah, told her I'd find her kid sis. Figure faster I get out there, faster I can find her,” Daryl explained, carefully hiding the pain in his eyes beneath the shadows from his long, disheveled locks, although he knew without a doubt that Rick understood the real reason he was running out on his family; slinking out into the darkness like the coward he was.

“Daryl-” Rick started, then followed it up with an audible sigh before continuing, “It's dark out. Stay the night at least? Get some sleep. Clean up. Eat more than one plate. At least then, if you decide to go still, you'll be rested. You'll have a game plan. Something more than running out in the dark.”

Silence fell between them, only the sound of their breaths and the crackle of the flames in the fireplace nearby filled the air around them. Daryl hesitated, one foot wanting to step through the doorway in front of him and the other wanting to stay exactly where it was planted. The memories that clung to the shadows of the lodge, the darkness that seeped around him and reminded him of his failure, haunted him from the recesses of the room, but he missed his family, he missed his home. He wasn't ready to leave again, but he wasn't ready to stay either.

Relenting to the pleas of the man he considered to be his brother, Daryl nodded and glanced out from beneath the curtain of hair he hid behind. Nodding once, he agreed to Rick's request, “One night.”

“Thank you,” Rick replied with a relieved smile on his face. Daryl froze momentarily when Rick enveloped him in another hug, never fully adjusting to the touch and feel of his new family expressing their feelings for him. “Now, go get some clothes out of storage and clean up. Make Judith happy.”

Agreeing without saying a word, Daryl hitched the backpack and crossbow up a notch on his back and turned to head towards the row of conference rooms to find clothes that weren't quite as torn and dirty as the ones he had worn for far too long. As he retreated towards the darkened hallway opposite of the restaurant, Rick called out to him, “And, Daryl, sleep where you want. No one's in any of your rooms.”

Any of his rooms, the three that he had occupied during his time there. The one on the second floor near his family, the one on the third where he had been sent to guard a frightened young woman, or the one he had fallen in love with the woman he couldn't save.

Facing that decision was the hardest one of all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone enjoyed the update. As usual, muse would really enjoy hearing your thoughts on the story.


	7. Chapter 7

_“The body of a woman that he still loves, lays lifeless before his eyes.  
A hollow vessel at rest, opens up to the skies.  
Does death give way to peace, or just oblivion?  
Another life cut short. Another victim of the villain.  
My heart has struggled to comprehend how I'll stick through 'til the end,   
but even the deepest sorrow will lose its scalpel edge.”_

Adestria _“More than You Know”_  


Outside, the icy cold water from the storage system sluiced over Daryl, washing away the grime, blood and dirt that had accumulated and buried itself in his skin during his time away from his family. There had been the occasional dip in a lake or pond, but nothing that would pass as an actual bath.

Twigs and leaves clung to his gnarled hair, which sported knots the size of his fist and refused to comb out when he dragged his hands through the disheveled locks. Giving up on the task, Daryl scrubbed his fingers into the mess as best as he could to work the green apple scented shampoo into his hair to at least clean out what dirt he could. Dipping his head into the cold stream of water once more, he washed out the suds before grabbing hold of the towel hanging over the edge of the makeshift shower stall and scrubbing it over his face.

Exhaustion tugged at his limbs, weighing them down to the point where simply drying off was a chore. Giving the task a half-assed attempt, he pulled on the clothes he had grabbed earlier from the storage room, the process taking longer than normal thanks to the moisture that clung to his skin. After what seemed like forever, Daryl stepped out of the shower area and headed back into the lodge.

Daryl made a brief detour through the supply room to grab a pair of scissors, before climbing the stairs with Wolf on his heels. Bypassing the second floor where the rest of his family was bunking down for the night, Daryl wearily climbed towards the third floor and made his way towards the last bedroom on the right where he had stayed with Lily.

Standing in front of the closed door, he simply stared at it as the last bit of his willpower slipped away. With his hand wrapped around the doorknob, Daryl stood rooted in place, frozen. He had tried to sleep in the room after her death, failing miserably each night as the image of her dying plagued his dreams and refused to give him a moment of peace until he gave up trying to sleep altogether. During his shower, he had told himself that he was going to fight the demons in his mind and sleep in the bed they had once shared together, but now that he was standing in front of the door, he was thinking otherwise.

Behind him in the darkness, Wolf whimpered. “What do you want?” Daryl asked in response to the dog, as if he could respond with an actual answer. Instead, the beast sidled up closer to Daryl, brushing his thick coat against Daryl's legs and whimpering once more. “Yeah, yeah...I'm trying.”

But, in the end, he couldn't do it. Chickening out, Daryl let his hand slide from the door knob and simply stood there in the dark while the hot, fiery pain of regret stabbed him in the heart. Guilt continued to gnaw at his conscience, refusing to let go of the heartache and remorse over losing Lily, and for being the reason she was no longer there.

If only he had been able to get a clear shot, or suck it up and take the shot that was presented to him, instead of letting fear over missing and hitting Lily leave him weak and scared. If only he had done what he had been able to do time and time again, save the people he loved, then he wouldn't have lost yet another person in his life. If only she had listened to him, gave him a chance to save her, something...then Lily would still be alive.

If only...

It was a game his mind played with him nightly. The reason he couldn't sleep very well or for long at any given time. Nightmare's plagued his slumber, replaying the events of that night over and over, each with the same conclusion - his utter failure as blood dribbled from her cold, blue lips while her navy eyes glazed over with death. Each night he tried to save her and each night he failed just as he had done in real life. He was just as much of a failure in his dreams as he was in reality.

Growling in frustration, Daryl lashed out and kicked the door in front of him, before turning and stalking down the hallway towards the stairs, bypassing even the bedroom he had stayed in before moving in with Lily. Being on the third floor was just too damned difficult. Instead, he bounded down a flight of stairs with Wolf hot on his heels and marched towards the bedroom he had claimed the first night his group had inhabited the abandoned lodge. Slamming the door shut behind him, more forcefully than he had intended, Daryl dropped the bag on his shoulder to the floor and added his crossbow, before falling onto the bed.

Sleep came easily, as it often did thanks to the exhaustion he worked himself into each day, but as usual, the demons came calling quickly. Lurching upwards, his chest heaved as sweat beaded on his forehead. The dream had been the same, it always was. One would think he would grow accustomed to the nightmare's at this point, but as of yet, they still tore him from his sleep with his heart racing and a scream sitting on the tip of his tongue.

Cursing at the brightly shining sun blaring through the window he hadn't bothered to cover with the thick curtains, since he had fully intended to be gone before the sun was up, Daryl rolled out of the bed. Scrubbing a hand over his face, Daryl scooted from the bed, earning only a lifted head from Wolf before the dog laid his head back down onto the rumpled bedding. Grabbing the bag he had dropped onto the floor, Daryl rooted around inside until he located the scissors he had procured the night before and headed towards the bathroom. Once inside, he stared at his haggard expression in the mirror and barely recognized the man that was staring back at him. Sure, before the end of the world, he had stared at a reflection he had been less than pleased with, but at least then he wasn't staring at a corpse that had yet to realize it had died inside. Sunken cheeks, hollowed eyes and a birds nest of ratty hair, Daryl Dixon was a shell of the man he had once been.

Fixing at least one of the problems was easy, cutting off the knot filled hair that gnarled around his face. The only light available was what was streaming in through the open door, it wasn't much, but it was enough to get the job done. With all the skill of a drunken toddler, Daryl started hacking away at the locks until the majority of the shoulder blade length hair filled the sink, twigs and all. Glaring at the shadowy figure in the mirror, he ran a hand through the haphazardly shorn hair and shrugged, deeming the style enough of a success to make it through until they grew back out and needed to be hacked off once more.

After a quick trim session on the splotchy beard sprouting on his face, Daryl decided to keep the scissors and shoved them into his bag before grabbing it and the crossbow off the floor. Whistling at the beast still slumbering on the bed, he held open the door until Wolf lumbered past him, before letting it shut behind him as he followed the dog down the stairs.

As he figured, breakfast was in full swing by the time he lumbered down the stairs and thus, the stealthy escape under the cover of darkness that he had planned the night before was no longer possible. Figuring a full belly would at least help his strength, Daryl dropped his pack and bow by the restaurant door and headed inside.

Mumbling good morning to Carol, who was busy putting out a platter of meat onto the buffet line, Daryl piled his high with proteins and carbohydrates for energy and made his way towards the table he had always sat by himself before Lily had barreled into his life. Grimacing at the sight of Mary already filling the seat she had sat at the night before at dinner, Daryl started looking around for another seating option, but ended up sinking down onto the chair across from the freshly scrubbed teenager anyway when she waved him over.

Glaring at Mary with distaste that had no effect on her chipper mood, Daryl dropped his gaze to the plate of food and started eating without saying a word. Of course, as he had learned after spending a week with the kid on the road, his silence didn't deter her from talking to him.

“I like your hair,” she said, after blathering on about how nice the lodge was and how great it felt to take a shower and sleep on a real bed. “Fits you better than what you had before.”

Snorting, as if cutting his hair had anything to do with being concerned for his looks and less about necessity, Daryl chugged half a glass of water before shoving a piece of bread into his mouth, chewing loudly and openly. Manners had never been his strong suit, and being that there was no reason to impress the teenager sitting across from him, starting to eat with decorum at that moment wasn't necessary.

“You look like you got some sleep. That's good and all. I mean, you want to be rested to go back out, right?” Mary continued, unfazed by his open mouth as he chewed noisily. “You're still going, right? To find my sister? I heard the others saying you might not leave yet, or at all.”

“Said I was going, didn't I?” Daryl asked around a mouth-full of roasted venison. Shrugging one shoulder, he added, “They ain't made me change my mind. Heading out after I eat.”

“Oh, okay. Good,” Mary sighed with a look of relief on her face as she pushed around a small mound of eggs on her plate. “It's good y'all are going out. If anyone can find her, it's got to be you, I think.”

“Who's this y'all? I ain't taking no one with me,” Daryl dropped the fork onto his now empty plate and pushed away from the table to stand.

“What? You can't go by yourself!” Mary cried, food forgotten as she followed suit and pushed away from the table to follow Daryl. “Are you crazy?”

By now the panic in Mary's voice had caught the attention of everyone else in the restaurant and caused Rick and Carol to head towards the distressed teen, following in her wake as she chased after Daryl out into the lobby. Grabbing his pack and bow from the floor, Daryl tossed them over his shoulder and continued on in his exit from the lodge, all the while cursing himself for not just sneaking out without eating breakfast.

“There's a lot of them, from what I heard. I told you that! You can't go by yourself,” Mary continued to harp at him as they marched across the tiled lobby floor towards the massive oak double doors at the entrance to the hotel. “You have to take someone with you!”

“Found you just find by myself, didn't I?” Daryl growled as he grabbed hold of the doorknob to yank open the door. Sunlight streamed in, warming his skin as he squinted against the brightness and felt just a sliver of relief wash over him as he stepped out onto the stairs. Fresh air, nature, sunlight...instant stress relief.

“Do something! You can't let him leave alone,” Mary barked out to the group of people who had now formed in the lobby behind her.

“If Daryl wants someone to go with him, we'll figure it out, but he doesn't.” Rick's calm voice of reason slipped into the conversation. “He knows we're here for him.”

“You're just as crazy as he is! What kind of family is this? You're just going to let him go out there by himself?” Mary cried out in disbelief, tears of anger and sorrow streaking down her face as she pleaded with the people in the lobby to help the man who had rescued her from certain death. Wiping furiously at her face, she stepped out onto the porch with Daryl and said, “Fine. I'll go with you. You need someone and if they aren't going to help you, then I will.”

“Done said I was going alone,” Daryl growled as he whipped around to glare at the tear stained face of the teenager who seemed dead set on being his companion. “You ain't gonna do nothing but distract me. The way you clomp through the woods? Shit, they'll hear me coming a mile away.”

“But,” Mary started, sniffling as she was pushed back into the lodge by Daryl's forceful grip on her shoulders. “But, you can't. You need someone with you. To keep you safe.”

“Don't need no one. Don't want you with me, don't need you with me. Got it?” Daryl barked out harshly, choking back the lump of emotion that was threatening to tear him apart from the inside. Glaring over Mary's shoulder to the small cluster of people he considered family, knowing each one of them would venture out into the world with him without a second thought, and said, “Keep her here. Keep her safe.”

“You don't have to do this alone,” Rick said, stepping closer to the door with Carol in tow, who immediately wrapped an arm around the sobbing teenager.

“I know that,” Daryl replied, his voice softened by the knowledge that his family would sacrifice their own happiness and safety to follow him out in to an uncertain world and even more uncertain fate. “Ain't gonna ask you to do that. Just keep her safe.”

“We will. She'll be safe here,” Rick promised as a shimmer of sadness flickered in his icy blue eyes. “Come home to us.”

Not daring to promise his safe return, Daryl glanced over Rick's shoulder to where his family stood and nodded once, before clamoring down the stairs and out into the world once more. Alone, just the way fate wanted him to be.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well folks, that is the end of Part One! Hope you all liked the update, I know it was a bit on the depressing side, but that's where our dear Daryl is in his head and heart at the moment. Part Two will start next Sunday!
> 
> Thanks for all the reviews so far!!! I appreciate each and every one of them and they certainly get muse inspired to work.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So sorry for the late update, but I was sick yesterday and really just stayed under a blanket watching Christmas movies for most of the day. I was so tired and achy I didn't do much of anything at all, other than breathe.

Part Two

_“And now I’m standing here alone._  
Still I hold my head up high.  
The time has come for me to leave.  
It’s the only way to survive.”

~In This Moment _“Standing Alone”_  


Sweat beaded on Daryl's brow as he trudged through the brush, headed west towards the next destination on his map. The hot, summer sun beat down on his shoulders, soaking the tattered and worn shirt through with his sweat. Summer in the south was known to be brutal with its heat, and that day it was no exception to the rule. Humidity, thick as a blanket, wrapped around him and made it difficult to breathe, doubling the intensity of the sun's warmth to make the afternoon damned near unbearable.

Stopping beneath the next tree in his path, seeking out the shelter of shadows provided by its thick canopy of leaves, Daryl pulled the well-used map from his back pocket and studied it for the millionth time that day. Staying off the beaten path, trekking through the woods and dirt paths overgrown with brush, was the best route for safety, but damned if doing so didn't make the journey twice as long and infinitely more grueling.

Glancing out from beneath the cover of trees towards the deserted dirt road crossing in front of him, Daryl spied an old road marker that had long since fallen over and was now partially covered in weeds and dirt. Checking his surroundings once more, he slipped from the shadows of the tree line and jogged across the roadway to study the sign, brushing off years of neglect from the metal plate in hopes of finding the road name or some other form of identification to confirm his location. Feeling out the raised numbers beneath his fingertips, he leaned over and spat onto the sign to wipe away what grime he could decipher what was beneath.

Glancing down at the map, he squinted against the sun while trying to pinpoint his location, finding it a solid ten miles south of where he wanted to be. Somewhere in the middle of the forest, he had detoured ever so slightly from the path he had wanted to be on and took himself a day further than planned. Not the worst thing that could happen, but an obstacle none the less, as the town he had been shooting for would have been the best option for seeking shelter for the night.

Shoving the map back into his pocket, Daryl opted to stick to the roadway until he found a house or some other type of shelter to hunker down in for the night. A quick glance upwards to the sky confirmed that the storm that had been brewing for the majority of the day was damned near ready to open up the heavens and rain down on his head. He wasn't above trudging through a storm, but damned if he would rather wait it out with a roof over his head and a dry place to sleep for the night. Despite being out on his own for damned near two years now, he still preferred to sleep in a dry bed at night, something he had only grown accustomed to since the day they arrived at the lodge.

The first fat raindrop fell from the sky and landed on his shoulder about half a mile from what looked like an old farmhouse in the distance. Picking up his pace Daryl jogged down the old gravel driveway, now overgrown with weeds, and headed towards what he hoped would be a good place to take shelter through the storm. Before he could go through the front door, which was hanging partially off the frame, Daryl had to first make sure the surroundings were clear, a task that took long enough for the sky to let loose with the full force of its power.

Soaked to the bone, Daryl pushed his way through the back door, which was partially secured in place by the rusted hinges alone, and shook off like a dog once he was standing in the middle of the kitchen. Water flew from his long locks and dripped from his sodden clothes to form a puddle on the dingy linoleum beneath his feet. Dropping his backpack and bow to the floor by the door, he pulled his knife out of its sheath at his hip to clear the interior of the house, since the hand held weapon would be easier to use indoors.

On the second floor, he found the skeletal remains of what he assumed were the homeowners, curled up on the bed with one another. Upon closer inspection, he saw the butt end of a pistol poking out from beneath what looked like the woman, judging by the smaller frame. Reaching out, he dislodged the revolver from under her chin and flipped open the cylinder and found three bullets resting inside. With a quick flip of his wrist, Daryl clicked the cylinder closed once more and shoved the revolver into his pocket to continue searching the room, which led to the discovery of a nearly full box of ammunition and a box of pill bottles in the bathroom that, judging by the amount of narcotics, had belonged to a very sick individual before the turn. Not that he needed the medication, but in the apocalypse, you took what you found and worried about if it was needed later. After all, it was better to have it and not needed, rather than need it and not have it...a saying that could apply to many situations.

After a thorough search of the rest of the house, Daryl determined that the decrepit appearance of the old farmhouse had obviously led others to believe that nothing would be of interest inside, or that it had just been overlooked, because other than the damage to the front door nothing appeared to have been disturbed inside. Of course, there was also the chance that it was a trap, but so far that conclusion had yet to pan out.

Downstairs once more, Daryl secured what windows and doors appeared to need covering, before settling down at the kitchen table to enjoy the dinner of various canned foods he had located in the pantry. What looked to be a vegetable soup of some kind, along with a can of pears and a tin of potted meat, or what he considered to be one of the more plentiful meals he had had in a very long time.

After slurping the contents from the bottom of each container, he chugged half of the bottle of water from his flask and decided that he needed to sit something outside to collect water during the storm. Locating a relatively clean ten gallon bucket in the laundry room, Daryl pulled open the rusty hinged back door once more and stuck the bucket out into the rain for the night, hoping that the storm continued on long enough for a good amount of water to build up.

Back inside, he stripped off his wet clothes and pulled on the dry replacement clothes he had snagged from upstairs. The pants were a little big and the shirt sleeves far too long, but they were dry and somewhat clean, and that was all that mattered. He left his boots off to hopefully dry during the night, but knew that as waterlogged as they were they would need far longer than one night to dry out. He had hoped to find another pair in the house, but judging from the enormity of the clothes he had found, there was little doubt in his mind that any boot of the former owner would be entirely too big for him. Hell, it wasn't like he hadn't walked miles in wet boots before, and he highly doubted that tomorrow would be the last time.

Before settling in on the sofa for the night, Daryl spread out the damp map onto the kitchen table so it could dry as well. Having been stuffed into his back pocket, it wasn't nearly as wet as the other items, but it was one of the most important and didn't need for it to get further damaged staying folded up while moist. As delicately as possible, he smoothed down the edges and studied the marks that had been made onto the map of Georgia since he had found it in a gas station just shortly after leaving the lodge the last time. Having the map wasn't his only resource, but combined with the notebook in his backpack and compass, the three together helped him greatly each step of the way on this particular journey.

With nothing else to do but wait out the storm and darkness of night, Daryl moved his backpack and bow over to the couch and flopped down onto the flower covered material that puffed with dust as his body weight fell on top of it. Coughing slightly, Daryl shoved a dainty, lace trimmed pillow behind his head and glared up at the ceiling. The nights were the hardest, because that was when his thoughts sneaked in and plagued his lonely mind for hours on end.

He missed his family, a hodgepodge group of people that had been thrown together by circumstance and yet, despite all odds, had survived to form a bond stronger than what most normal families had before the turn. He missed his home, a place he had truly never had growing up, but one that he had found after the end of the world. The part of him who had acclimated to being around and living with other people missed the life he'd had before striking out on his own, but the heartache and pain that still lived in his heart wasn't ready to return just yet. He kept failing the people he loved, first Beth and then Lily, and the guilt that refused to let go of him would not allow him to return home and risk anyone else because of his failures.

His reasoning was stupid, a part of him realized that, but the voice that whispered to him nightly that his shortcomings would be the downfall to his family wouldn't let reason come to light. Instead, he continued on in his fruitless search of a child he was beginning to think no longer existed, using his search as an excuse to stay away from the family he loved and ached for. Being alone was far easier to deal with than failing the people you loved.

By the time the storm had stopped beating the walls with its thunder and streaking the skies with its lightening, Daryl had long since fallen asleep thanks to the melodic sounds of the rain pattering away on the tin roof above his head. Sleep was fitful as usual, but at least he was able to get a few solid hours of actual rest before the sun rose the next morning, bringing with it a humid heat that rivaled the one from the day before.

After eating another can of food, shoving more rations into his pack, and folding up the now dry map, Daryl pulled on the still wet boots and headed outside into the moist heat. The bucket he had sat out the night before was partially filled, enough to fill the canteen in his pack and the bottle dangling from his belt. Not nearly enough to stay hydrated in the summer heat, but more than he'd had on several occasions in his life. Once they were filled to the brim, he scooped out a couple of handfuls from the bucket and slurped the warm water from his cupped hand, not wanting to waste what water was left.

Heading back down the driveway in the direction he had come from, Daryl headed north in hopes of making up for the directional mistake he had made the day before. Losing a few miles wasn't the worst thing in the world, it wasn't like he had anywhere in particular to go to or a set time to arrive by, but the simple fact that he had made a mistake irritated the hell out of him.

By mid-afternoon the sun was shining high in the now cloudless sky, blaring down on him once more with a searing heat that was so hot he was certain steam was rising from the sweat on his skin. Disgruntled and hungry, Daryl decided that it was time for a break and cut away from the dirt road he had been traveling for hours on end with no sight of life, animal, human or dead, and followed the creek just off the roadway through the woods in search of its source. If all went well, the winding creek would take him upstream to a lake or pond, somewhere he could kick back his heels and rest for a bit. Hell, maybe even seek out some relief from the heat by taking a plunge depending on the surroundings.

A solid half mile later, the glimmer of water could be seen through the break in the trees that surrounded him, beckoning him towards its cool depths. Fallen limbs crunched and crackled beneath his feet as he navigated around a dead tree that had long since stood upright in the woods and peered out from the shadows of the tree line to survey the lay of the land, instead of just barreling out into the open. On the second sweep of the surroundings, he saw her.

Limbs shining in the afternoon sun, cutting a swatch through the water as she glided across the surface of the lake, creating ripples in the smooth surface with each stroke. Daryl's first thought, of course, went straight to the woman he had loved and lost, the one who had sought solace in the water every day that it was warm enough to do so.

Lily!

Transfixed, he crept closer towards her, logic telling him with each step that there was no way the woman in the water was Lily, but drawn to the woman none the less. Hope bloomed in his chest as his heart cried out in joy as though there was even the slightest possibility that she was still alive, as though he hadn't watched Lily die in his arms...like he hadn't pushed the blade of the knife through her temple to ensure she stayed that way.

Standing at the edge of the lake, water lapped at the tips of his boots as he watched her swim further away from him. Lost in the dream that the woman he was watching was the love he had lost, Daryl never heard the crunch of fallen leaves or snap of the same limbs he had walked over but a moment before.

“Hands up! On your head. Slowly.”

He heard the command a split second before the hard tip of a muzzle was pressed against the back of his head.


	9. Chapter 9

_“I wanna live, I wanna love,  
But it's a long hard road, out of hell.”_

Marilyn Manson _“Long Hard Road Out of Hell”_  


Floating on her back in the center of the pond, Mia Carter stared up at the robin's egg blue sky and watched as a lone white puffy cloud floated overhead. The edge of her vision was lined with emerald green leaves from the thicket of trees that surrounded the secluded body of water, tucked away in the middle of the woods all by its lonesome. It was the perfect place to escape the heat of the day, as well as the watchful eye of the guards at home.

The notion that the highlight of her day, or sometimes week, was slipping her guard duty to sneak down to the pond and swim. Oh how times had changed since before the outbreak, but sometimes you just had to find the silver lining in a world full of shit. When you spent day in and day out sequestered inside a stifling house with nothing to do but stare at the walls and watch the paint peel, it wasn't uncommon to go a little stir crazy. Hence, risking pissing off those in charge for an hour or two of freedom. She just hated that in order to do so, she had to risk getting one of her few friends in the world in trouble, too, since Blake refused to let her venture out into the wild, blue yonder on her own.

And, speaking of Blake, where had he wandered off to, Mia thought as she maneuvered from floating on her back to an upright position to look for him, since it seemed like forever since he had headed off into the woods to relieve himself in private. Treading water, she circled in place and scanned the bank. When she completed a half-circle, her eyes widened when she found him a solid hundred yards away on the opposite end of the pond...and not alone.

Standing with his back to Blake Martin was a shaggy haired interloper, whose  
head was currently pressed against the tip of a rifle. Even with the distance between them, Mia could see the look of annoyance on the stranger's face, as well as the look of fear plastered on her friend's face. Blake wasn't known for his skill in a fight, but his determination and utter loyalty to Mia was more important to her than what he could offer her in protection. Hell, she could protect herself, but she couldn't do much for Blake halfway across the pond from him. And, unfortunately, there wasn't anyone else out there with them in the woods to step in and offer assistance...and if there was anyone just beyond the treeline, they certainly weren't going to be on Mia and Blake's side.

At that thought, fear blossomed in Mia's chest as her doggy paddle intensified and she sped up her stroke, cutting through the glass-like water with a speed she hadn't reached since her days on the high school swim team. Not exactly out of shape, but not exactly in the condition she was back in her teenage years, Mia stopped with a solid hundred yards left to swim to catch her breath and check on what was going on between Blake and the stranger, a split second before the situation ratcheted from relatively calm to full on panic mode.

She watched in horror as the disheveled man suddenly dropped to his knees, spun around and tackled Blake, effectively catching her friend off guard and causing him to drop the rifle from his shaky hands as he plummeted to the ground with the stranger falling on top of him at the waist, attacking with the ferocity of a crazed madman. Horror clenched at Mia's chest as she dropped her head back into the water and raced for the shore, not entirely sure what her course of action, but determined to help her fallen friend.

Her muscles screamed out at the intensity in her strokes, her lungs burned for air and her heart raced and pounded in her chest as she cut through the water like a missile. Finally her hand pushed into the mud of the bed of the pond and Mia realized that she had swam damn near to the bank before stopping. Her knees scrapped against the gravel embedded into the slimy mud as she struggled to get to her feet, pushing off the murky ground with her hands as she stumbled up onto the bank and darted towards the grappling duo just ahead.

Mia struggled to catch her breath as she neared the men, her brain worked overtime trying to figure out a solution to the problem at hand and for a split second she was clueless...until her line of sight landed directly on the rifle laying on the sandy bank nearby. Pouncing on the weapon, she fumbled with it briefly with her wet and muddy hands, before screaming out with am exhausted, shaky voice, “Hey, asshole!”

Frustration washed over her when nothing happened, the man attacking her friend never even checked up at the sound of her voice. Growling, Mia took two steps closer and tried again, this time putting all of her rage and fear into her command, “Hey, asshole! I'm talking to you!”

Something in her voice must have penetrated his brain on the second attempt, because he glanced sharply in her direction with a growl so fierce it could give a lion a run for its money. Shaggy, sweat drenched bangs hung down into his eyes, but she could still see the murderous, icy blue glare that stared up at her. Shivering with fear, she did the only thing she could think of at the moment and raised the rifle with and slammed the butt end of it down against the stranger's head, catching him right on the eyebrow near the temple. With a grunt and a curse, his eyes rolled back into his sockets and he fell down onto Blake, who laid beneath his attacker with wide, shock filled green eyes.

“Holy shit, Mia,” Blake exclaimed as he maneuvered himself out from beneath the man. His chest heaved and tears had already begun to fill his eyes, something she knew would embarrass him if anyone else from their camp saw. “I...I saw him down here after I used the bathroom. He was...he was just down here staring at you, so I had to do something, right?” Mia watched with sympathy in her heart as her friend wiped away the tears that refused to stop filling his eyes. “And then he just attacked. I never even saw it coming. Thank you...for saving me. Thank you.”

“I'm just glad you're okay.” Mia reached out and touched him on the arm, steadying both him and herself. “You are okay, right? He didn't hurt you, did he?”

“No. I'm okay, I think. Probably going to be sore tomorrow, but otherwise I'm good.” Blake's words trembled with the fear that was clearly still coursing through his veins, but Mia knew that questioning him further would just make the emotions building up inside of him intensify. Instead, she opted for turning the attention towards the unconscious stranger at their feet.

Cautiously, she stepped closer to the man and toed him with the tip of one bare foot. Poking at his side experimentally, she breathed a sigh of relief when he didn't move, either she had truly knocked him out cold or he was playing one heck of a game of possum. Glancing back at Blake, she asked, “Now what?”

“I say we just leave him.”

“We can't just leave him, Blake,” Mia replied with a look of disappointment on her face. “That wouldn't be the right thing to do.”

“You really want to take him back to our place?” Blake asked with a cocked eyebrow, knowing without a doubt what her answer would be.

“No, not really, but what if he's not alone? What if we leave him out here, he regains consciousness and goes back to his friends who decide to attack us?” Mia offered up as she played the usual role of Devil's Advocate with Blake, a game they had played on more than one occasion since finding one another after the turn. “If I thought for a second he was alone, then yeah...I'd leave him out here, but what if he's not? Just because I don't like a lot about our place, there are still good people there that deserve to at least be considered in the decision.”

“Okay, so we take him back,” Blake nodded and took a tentative step closer to Mia and the man in question. “You know that means we're going to have to explain what we were doing out here. Gage is going to be pissed that you slipped guard duty again.”

“Yeah and Sir Dickwad can just get un-pissed in the same pants he gets pissed in then, can't he?” Mia snarled her lip up in disgust at the thought of her husband's best friend, the man who had saved her from the outbreak and gone on to self-appoint himself as her personal savior and guardian, two roles she had no desire to have him fill. “Come on, we might as well get going. Um, let me go grab my clothes and then we'll figure out how we're going to do this.”

Half an hour later, dressed in moist clothes that clung uncomfortably to her still damp skin, Mia shrugged the man's heavy ass backpack and cross bow onto her shoulders after struggling to help Blake lift the still unconscious man onto the back of horse they had sneaked out of the stables to ride down to the pond, a solid five mile jaunt. With Blake walking on one side and Mia on the other, they steadied the man with each of them placing a hand onto him as they slowly made the trek towards the once pleasant little slice of the world they had carved out for themselves, before a power hungry asshole had decided to crown himself king.

What had at one time been a quaint small town was now their home base, although only one street was actually being used. Over time they had blocked off various streets, placed security fences along the rears of yards that didn't already have them and wired up what little solar energy they could manage with trips to the Home Depot and Lowe's in neighboring towns. It wasn't much, but the street was at least lined with enough lights that one could see walking around without a flashlight, which was good since batteries were scarce. Plus, being a small town that had yet to catch up with the rest of the world, several of the homes were still on well water, so they all had access to fresh water...cold water, but clean nonetheless.

It wasn't much, but it was home.

“Man, Gage is pissed at you guys,” Hank called out as they neared the southernmost gate, the joyful sound in his voice let Mia and Blake know just how much he enjoyed the thought of them being punished by their self-appointed leader. “Said to send you in to see him when you got back, Mia.”

“Yeah, it's on the top of my things to do list,” Mia replied sarcastically as she helped pull open the metal gate, cringing at the screeching sound the hinges made as it slowly opened. “I'll get to it when I can. First things first, found this guy out in the woods.”

“Sweet. Fresh meat.” Scott grinned evilly from the guard tower above, earning himself a glare of disgust from both Mia and Blake. “What? We ain't had no one new around here in ages, not since them kids last year and that ain't no fun.”

“We'll put him in containment then I'll go see Gage after checking on Micah, okay? Just leave this guy alone, at least until I check him out and find out his story.” Mia motioned for Blake to lead the horse towards the building they had put together to keep strangers and the occasional group member who'd had too much muscadine wine and needed a time out.

“Who says you get to check him out?” Hank asked with a snort, the one that plain as day told Mia what he thought about her plan of action, as well as her. “Think you need to leave it to the men, darling.”

“And I think you need to keep your cock sucker quiet,” Mia replied hotly, arching one eyebrow towards the guard and all but daring him to disobey her. While she had never been one to be overly forceful in her previous life, she had learned real quickly after the turn to place herself into a position of authority, instead of living as a slave to the men who thought they ruled the women. It wasn't a role she particularly enjoyed and it was one that required her to at least pander to Gage's ego and let others believe that she belonged to someone higher up in the food chain, but it kept herself and the one's she loved safe. She gave Hank one more second to argue and mentally sighed with relief when he didn't. “I said I'd handle it and I will. Tell Gage I'll be up when I'm done.”

Turning her back on the guards, Mia made her way towards the containment building with false bravado, because on the inside her nerves were shattered. One glance out of the corner of her eye towards Blake over the top of the horse's neck showed her that her friend was feeling the same as she was, but was wisely keeping his mouth shut until they were alone.

After dragging the unconscious man from the back of the horse and into one of the small rooms inside the building, Mia wiped a hand over her sweaty brow and studied the bloody mess that was still leaking down the side of the man's face. “I hit him harder than I meant to.”

“Head wound, apparently they bleed worse than others,” Blake explained as he crouched down next to her to inspect the gash on the man's eyebrow. “Want me to get Mae?”

“Yeah, if you don't mind. Tell her to meet me back here in a minute, I need to go try to calm Gage down at least.” Mia stood up and glanced down at the man once more before stepping back to the door, waiting until Blake was out before using a key to lock the man inside.

“Those guys keep pushing at you harder and harder, it's like they want to see how far you'll go with your threats,” Blake said as he followed her towards the main entrance.

“They know it's not just a threat,” Mia pushed a lock of wet hair away from her face and stared up at her friend. “They were there that day, back when I found out Larry was touching that little girl. I did what I had to do to keep her safe and they saw that. If I have to keep chopping off hands to make my damn point around here I will.”

“You'll run out of hands,” Blake replied dryly as he peered out the tiny window in the door, most likely seeing if anyone was standing outside listening to them. “We have to get out of here, Mia. They're getting worse. It's not safe here anymore.”

“I know, Blake. Trust me, I know.” Mia sighed and shoved the keys into the front pocket of her shorts. “I can't leave Micah. I won't leave him, and he's not well enough to travel, not with just us. We need time, to figure out a plan of action to leave, or hell...figure out how to overthrow the damned overlord. We'll do it, eventually, I promise. We just have to be smart about it. I'll get us out of here, Blake. I swear it.”

Mia just wished the conviction in her words matched the strength in her heart, because deep down she truly had no idea how they were going to escape the Hell they were living in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas!


	10. Chapter 10

_“One day I'll face the Hell inside me  
Someday I'll accept what I have done  
Sometime I'll leave the past behind me  
For now I accept who I've become and now I see clearly.”_

 

Five Finger Death Punch _“I Apologize”_

 

Standing outside of the two-story gray brick and white siding house that Gage had claimed as his home base years ago, Mia did her best to ignore the smirks and knowing glares of the men patrolling the area just outside of the white, paint peeled privacy fence as she stood in the front yard and mustered up the needed courage to face the man who had once been one of her best friends. Anxiety curdled in the pit of her stomach like soured milk, knowing that without a doubt the man who had once held her ponytail while she puked at a bonfire after the Homecoming dance was no longer the man the reigned over her post-apocalyptic life. No, that form of Gage Winston, the scrawny teen whose stutter had become more prominent whenever she was around, was no longer a part of her life. Instead, the man who waited for her inside the home was strong willed, self-assured and, on more than one occasion, down right sociopathic at times.

Oh, how she missed the slightly nerdy boy who lived down the street from her growing up. The kid who had been more interested in playing chess and watching Star Trek, rather than playing football with the other guys on the block. But, if wishes were being granted, Mia would wish for someone to press the rewind button on life and take her back to the days before the outbreak, back when life was normal and she was but a simple housewife who wrote children books in her spare time. Back to when her husband was state side, back to being in his arms, back to being normal.

Of course, she could wish in one hand and shit in the other and see which one filled up first.

Grimacing, she took a breath and marched up the cracked cement sidewalk towards the once bright red front door, now faded and chipped with time. As expected, it opened before she had a chance to fully raise her hand to knock on it. Stepping around the man who answered, one of Gage's many henchmen, she was ushered into the den to face the consequences of her actions.

“Glad to see you made it home safely.” Gage's voice called out to her before she was even fully inside the room he had chosen as his office. From the corner of the room, behind a massive cherry wood desk, he stared at her over the top of a glass of amber colored liquid with dark brown eyes that radiated anything but warmth. “What did I tell you about leaving without permission?”

“Not to do it,” Mia replied sourly, unable to keep the annoyance out of her voice, a task that was damned near impossible when dealing with Gage's patronizing tone. “We just went for a swim, Gage.”

“And I just want to make sure you're safe,” he pointed out, sitting the now empty glass onto the desk before standing up to head in her direction. Gage rounded the desk to stand far too close to Mia for her liking, his now formidable size towering over her, and looked down into her eyes with an expression that he probably thought was concern, but failed to hit the mark in Mia's opinion. “You could have asked, I could have arranged for someone to watch after you.”

“I had Blake with me, it's not like I was alone.”

“Seriously, Mia?” Gage responded with a snarl of his lip. “He couldn't protect himself from a butterfly. He's soft.”

“He's also the only man here that doesn't look at me like I'm a side of beef,” Mia retorted quickly. “Besides Micah, of course.”

“How is he doing today?” Gage asked softly, inching closer to Mia with a genuine look of concern on his face. There was once a time when Mia's brother and Gage were thick as thieves, combined with Mia's husband, the three boys had run around with one another from childhood all the way to adulthood. Lately though, Gage seemed to be keeping his distance from Micah, something that would have broken her brother's heart if he was coherent enough to notice on most days.

“Same as usual, barely there on a good day. In pain on the others.” Mia pushed aside the pang in her heart at the thought of her once vibrant brother who was wasting away a little more each day, for reasons unknown. “I'm going to go check on him after I deal with...with something else.”

“You mean the man you brought home with you?” Gage was close enough now that the tips of his black boots brushed against her sneakers. His shadow fell across her skin as he peered down at her. “I've already been told you two didn't come home alone.”

“Of course not,” Mia sighed and wished she could scoot further away from Gage, but doing so would only push her against the couch behind her. “He's locked up for now, unconscious. I hit him pretty good in the head with the rifle. Probably, he's gonna be out for a while. Figure I'll get Mae to sew him up at least.”

“Don't worry about that. I'll have one of the men get her over there to do it and have someone stay with him tonight.” Gage said, dismissing her plans altogether. “You go on and check on your brother, and maybe later, if he's doing okay, you can come over for dinner?”

“I appreciate the offer,” Mia replied slowly, piecing together her excuse to decline the invitation quickly. “But, he's my responsibility, right? The prisoner? I found him, he's mine to deal with. Those are the rules.”

“That is the rule, for the men,” Gage bit out, before seeing the glimmer of disdain in Mia's eyes. Cocking an eyebrow at her questioningly, he caved, “Fine, you want to deal with the man, you go right ahead. He's all yours.”

“Thank you,” Mia breathed out, trying her best to hold back her relief. “I just...I wasn't lying when I said I wanted more responsibility around here, Gage. I can do more than you give me credit for. Hell, you know I can take care of myself, you grew up with me.”

“I know, Mia. I just want to keep you safe. And, last time I left you in charge I came home to find one of my men missing a piece of himself, didn't I?” Gage's eyes twinkled with amusement, knowing that Mia was still quite sensitive about the decisions she had made while he was gone on a hunt over the winter. She opened her mouth to defend her actions yet again, but he carried on with the conversation without giving her a chance. “Plus, I know that's what Brian would want, too. That he'd want me to watch over you, to make sure you're safe.”

It was a low blow, using her husband to keep her in line, and they both knew it. Instead of letting her anger take the wheel and drive, Mia smiled softly and took the unassuming female route, “Where ever he is, if he's still out there, I know he'd be thankful that you're making sure I'm safe, Gage.”

She wanted to punch the man in front of her square in the face at the sparkle in his eyes at her words. Her husband, Brian, would kick the shit out of his childhood best friend for the man he had grown into, especially for trying to move in on his wife.

“I better get back over there, to the prisoner. Blake was bringing Mae over to check on him and I don't want the two of them going in without me.” Mia took a step to the side, in the direction of the hallway and front door. “I'll tell Micah you asked about him. Maybe tomorrow will be a better day, maybe you can come see him?”

“Yeah, sounds good.” Gage said distractedly, before reaching out to grab hold of Mia's upper arm. His long, graceful fingers wrapped around her slender arm easily and tugged her back towards him. Long dark tendrils slipped past the ponytail that hung low against his neck, falling across his forehead to partially cover his eyes, but she could easily still see the darkness in the chocolate stare. “And, Mia, don't let me catch you outside those walls again. For your safety, stay inside.”

Not trusting her voice, worried that it would either be shaky and show her nervousness or the words that might tumble out would give away the anger coursing through her veins, Mia simply nodded in agreement. She'd be damned if she was going to submit to his orders, or give up swimming in this blasted heat, but she knew better than to let him know of her plans.

She was halfway down the street before her heart rate returned to normal.

Blake was leaning against the front door of the containment building when she returned, with Mae Jackson sitting on the front stoop. Smiling, Mia accepted the hug from Mae, relaxing into the older woman's hold in a way that she couldn't with many people.

“Thank you for waiting on me. Sorry it took so long.” Mia followed the pair inside the house, pulling the key to the deadbolt securing the door the prisoner was tucked behind out of her pocket. “Gage was...well, Gage was himself.”

“That boy's parents would be ashamed of how he turned out,” Mae shook her head and sighed at the thought. “Harold and Jean raised him to be better than this, to be kind and caring...not like this.”

“Yeah, well, luckily they don't have to see it,” Mia grumbled, knowing that Mae was right in her assumptions on how disappointed Gage's parents would be to see him now. Of course, Mr. and Mrs. Winston had passed away years before the outbreak thanks to a drunk driver, so not only were they spared watching the world fall apart, but they didn't have to witness their once kindhearted and shy son turn into a tyrannical bastard.

Mia unlocked the deadbolt and shoved the key back into her pocket, before motioning to Blake to hand her the rifle slung over his shoulder, which he did without question. Heck, she was better with firearms than he was, thanks in part to her husband and countless hours at the range back when he was home. With the rifle raised, she stepped into the room and found their prisoner half sitting and half laying against the wall on the opposite side of the small room, a different position than the one they had left him in. Clearly, he was no longer unconscious, as one blue eye was trained directly on her, while the other was partially swollen to nothing but a slit. 

Holding the rifle steady, she pointed it directly at him and said, “I've brought someone to check out your wound. You touch one hair on her head, make any moves to hurt her and I will shoot you. Got it?”

Without breaking eye contact with her, the man nodded slowly.

“Mae, come on in.” Mia backed against the wall enough to allow Mae to enter the room with them, her slight frame nowhere near big enough to fill much of the room.

“Oh goodness, that is quite the gash you've got there,” Mae murmured, poking at the blood crusted bruise on the man's eyebrow, before glancing back at Mia disapprovingly. “You got hit pretty hard, huh?”

“What? He was attacking Blake, what was I supposed to do? Blow kisses at him until he stopped?” Mia said grumpily, defending herself even though she knew that Mae didn't really judge her for protecting the two of them.

“This is going to hurt, dear, but it's going to need sewing up and I don't have anything to numb it first,” Mae apologized, as she dug through the kit at her side for sutures and a needle.

The man said nothing, simply continuing to stare at Mia over the top of Mae's gray haired bun as the woman prepared a needle to sew his eyebrow up with. The intensity of his stare made her uncomfortable to the point that Mia wanted to turn away from it, but it was almost like she couldn't when it came down to it. Instead, she defiantly met his glare straight on.

“Mia!” Blake's panicked cry penetrated her mind and broke Mia from the staring contest that she was quite certain she was losing. “It's Micah, he's...something's wrong. He's calling for you!”

“Shit,” Mia muttered as she glanced back to where Mae had just started sewing up the man's wound. Narrowing her eyes, she took two steps closer to the pair and crouched down next to Mae. “You going to be okay without me? Blake's going to stay with you.”

“I'm fine, dear,” Mae paused between stitches and patted Mia's arm with one steady hand. “We're find here. He's not going to hurt me, are you?” Without bothering to wait for the man in question to respond, Mae added, “Go ahead and take care of Micah, sweetheart.”

Directing her attention to the man currently at Mae's mercy, Mia said, “You touch one hair on her head and I will make you pay, got it? I will peel off your skin, inch by painful fucking inch, and feed it to you. Understand?”

“Oh, Mia, there's no sense in all that. I said we'll be fine, didn't I?” Mae clucked her tongue disapprovingly at Mia and all but waved her from the room.

With one final glare of warning to the man in front of her, Mia stood up and turned to Blake to hand him the rifle. “He moves, you shoot him. He even looks at Mae like he might do something and you shoot him.”

“Go, we've got it here. Take care of your brother,” Blake assured her as he pushed her from the room and towards the front door.

“I'll be back as soon as I can. I promise.” And with one final glance into the room where she was leaving two of the three people on earth she truly cared about, Mia ran from the building and towards her brother as fast as she her feet would carry her.


	11. Chapter 11

_“Darkness_  
Imprisoning me.  
All that I see,  
Absolute horror.  
I cannot live,  
I cannot die.  
Trapped in myself,  
Body my holding cell.” 

Metallica _“One”_  


Pain seared in Daryl's head as the woman crouched in front of him poked at the wound on his head, but he remained still. Her hands were steady as she simultaneously sewed up the gash above his eyebrow and gently hummed a tune that he did not recognize. After dealing with the other two people from this encampment, spending a few minutes having his skin stitched together by a woman that resembled a loving grandmother was a piece of cake.

“She knocked you out pretty good, didn't she?” The woman muttered between tunes, as she leaned closer to inspect her handiwork. “My Mia never has understood her own strength.”

“She's yours?” Daryl grumbled in response, a bit shocked that the hellish woman he had the misfortune to stumble across was even remotely related to the gentle, gray haired woman in front of him. “Must take after her pop then.”

“Heavens, no. Mia's my daughter in law, dear.” Mae's green eyes shined with a sparkle that matched the laugh that passed her lips. “Although, I've known her nearly her whole life. Her family lived down the street from us and she and her brother ran around with my Brian since they were barely more than babies.”

“Ah, sorry for your son then,” Daryl said as he held back another wince of pain as Mae closed off the final stitch. Mumbling a curse under his breath from the pain, he tacked on an insult to make himself feel a bit better.“She's a bitch.”

“My Brian would disagree,” Mae retorted, turning her attention to the tackle box turned medical kit on the scuffed wooden floor beside them. She started packing up the medical items she had unloaded to start working on his injury, but continued their conversation. “She's actually a very kind, loving young woman. Mia's just been put in a bad situation, much like the rest of us.”

“Yeah, well, my head says otherwise.” Leaning his head back against the wall, Daryl closed his eyes and mentally attempted to will away the sharp, stabbing pain in his head. The blood from his wound was now dry on his skin and itchy as he squinted and crinkled it around his eye.“Be just fine if I ain't got to see her no more.”

“To each his own, dear.” The rustle of fabric let Daryl know that Mae was standing up, as the material of her linen skirt swirled around her legs. “I've left a few alcohol wipes for you to clean up with. Make sure you keep those stitches clean, you hear? You don't want it getting infected.”

“I'll be fine, ain't the worst I've had.” Daryl cracked an eye and stared up at Mae, taking in her matronly appearance with gray hair pulled back in a low bun and crinkles around her eyes, no doubt from laughter in a previous, happier time. She looked like the grandparent he had always wished he'd had, but never did. Pushing past the anger in his veins, Daryl found the gratitude he felt towards her and said, “Thanks for fixing me up.”

“Anytime, dear.” Mae smiled at him softly and leaned over to grab hold of her medical kit, turning towards the doorway where Blake was waiting eagerly on the other side. Before exiting the sparse bedroom, she glanced back to Daryl and said, “She really is a sweet girl, you should give her a chance. She might change your mind.”

“Yeah, and she might just bust open my other eye, too,” Daryl replied wryly, his voice hoarse from thirst, full of gravel and grit. He offered up a crooked smile at the sound of Mae's soft chuckle in response to his comment.

Mae disappeared from his sight and Blake appeared ever so shortly, his thin frame barely filling the doorway as he shut the door and locked Daryl inside his cell. Daryl wondered briefly how someone as slight as Blake had managed to get him up onto the horse, especially his dead weight as he was unconscious, and wondered how long it had taken the two of them to haul his ass up there. He'd had moments of semi-consciousness during the trip, his body bouncing around on the back of a horse as blood dripped down his face, but had no clue as to how he had gotten up onto the beast. Probably for the best, he highly doubted that they considered his wellbeing while hauling his limp body up there, and figured that being out cold had saved him from more pain.

Annoyed at himself for ending up in his current fine situation, Daryl looked around the room, taking in the lack of decorations and furniture and wondering for the billionth time just where in the hell he was. Pushing off the floor, he wobbled ever so slightly from the unhealthy combination of blood loss, hunger and dehydration, before stumbling over to test out the window. After a quick inspection, he realized that escaping out of it was not going to happen, thanks in part to the bars on the other side.

Lashing out, he smacked a palm against the wood paneled wall to the right of the window, before prowling across the small room to flop down on the bare bed. Although he was only provided a mattress, no bedding whatsoever, it was still more than Daryl had had on more than one occasion in his life. Staring up at the popcorn insulated ceiling, he wondered not only what in the hell he had gotten himself in to and how in the fuck he was going to get himself out of it.

The sound of the lock snicking open woke Daryl a while later, he blinked against the setting sun that was gleaming through the window and couldn't remember when he had fallen asleep, or how long he had been that way. Didn't matter really, because what else was he going to do in the empty room? Plus, his body needed the rest to heal itself.

He pushed himself up into a seated position a split second before Blake stuck his tousled ginger colored head inside the room. Daryl watched silently as the skittish young man eased into the room, armed this time with what looked like a Ruger LC9, a significantly smaller caliber pistol than the rifle he had sported earlier in the day, but a firearm nonetheless, and held open the door for another person to enter.

“We brought you some food,” Blake explained, as if Daryl was a complete moron and couldn't decipher what the plate of food meant. “Mia said to make sure you got plenty, so if this isn't enough we can get you more.”

Daryl said nothing as a young girl, no more than ten years old, tiptoed into the room while holding a plate in two hands and deposited it on the table across the room, adding a bottle of water from a bag that Blake had strapped over his chest. He softened his glare momentarily when she made eye contact with him, her doe like brown eyes wide and full of childlike wonder, but lacking the fear that he was searching for and thankful that he didn't find. As soon as the child was out of the room, he hardened his gaze back to the level of pissed off predator when it was just himself and Blake once more.

“She, uh...won't be back until tomorrow. Mia, I mean...she's dealing with uh, family stuff.” Blake gulped nervously under the weight of Daryl's stare and took a step backwards out the doorway. “There's a guard out front, if you...um, if you need anything just ring the bell.” He pointed at the bell on a cord by the door that Daryl had noticed, but had paid little attention to, before disappearing back into the hallway and locking the door once more.

Ravenous, Daryl pushed off the mattress, earning a shrill squeak of protest in the process from the rusty springs, and curiously inspected the food. Since his backpack was missing and therefor, the food he had stashed inside, his only option for not starving was to eat what was offered. On one hand, there was a chance the offerings were poisoned, but on the other hand, that was doubtful. Why bother bringing him back to the compound to kill, when they could have just left him where he was?

Throwing caution to the wind, Daryl reached out and grabbed hold of the sandwich on the plate and sniffed it thoroughly. Sensing nothing strange about the smell, he lifted off the top piece of rough, stone ground bread and peered at the lump of meat inside. After his visual inspection showed nothing suspicious either, Daryl tore into the offering hungrily, downing the sandwich in four solid bites. Chewing loudly and with his mouth wide open, he reached for the bottle of water and twisted off the top, finding it already loose, but that wasn't out of the norm these days, as it was fairly common to refill bottles for later use. Performing the same inspection as the meat, Daryl yet again deemed the liquid safe and chugged down half the bottle before stopping to breathe.

With his hunger and thirst moderately sated, Daryl lifted the plate off the table and carried it over so he could sit on the bed to polish off the rest of the food, a mishmash of various root vegetables and a pile of sliced tomatoes. Wherever he was, the community seemed to be self-sustainable and stable, and a pang of homesickness punched through his chest. For the longest time he was unable to admit that he wanted to go home, but now that he couldn't get there, the ache for his family and friends was strong enough to push aside the stubbornness that hadn't wanted to face facts.

He would get there, one day. Might not be tomorrow or the next day, hell...at this rate it might not be that year, but he would make his way back home with his tail tucked between his legs and stay there this time. Over the year or so that he had been gone, Daryl had made his way back to the lodge north of Atlanta only a handful of times, each trip to drop of those that he had rescued, but never stayed longer than a night. Food, rest, and a chance to restock his supplies, and Daryl had hightailed it out the front gates as the sun rose for the day, each time leaving without bothering to say farewell. He'd be damned if the last time he saw his family was actually the last time. Daryl had not a doubt in his mind that he would escape the current hellish position he was in and make his way home, he just wasn't quite sure how he was going to go about it at the moment.

Finished with his meal, Daryl put the plate back onto the table and started inspecting his holding cell once more. This time he located an already finished crossword puzzle, a lot of damned help that would be to him, and a book that appeared as though it had seen its fair share of readers, judging by the well-worn cover and bent over pages. Although the subject matter wasn't something he would normally be interested in, taking note of the half-dressed hero on the cover, beggars couldn't be choosers in the state of boredom he was in. Shrugging, Daryl carried the book over to the bed and flopped down on the mattress and began to read the story of an eighteenth century vampire and the woman he loved.


	12. Chapter 12

_“Say something new_  
I have nothing left  
I can't face the dark without you  
There's nothing left to lose  
The fighting never ends  
I can't face the dark without you.” 

~Breaking Benjamin _“Without You”_  


Sunlight streamed through the open window beside the bed, hitting Mia directly in the face with its insanely bright rays. Wincing against the intrusion, she rolled over to hide from the brightness, but the slumbering man next to her in the bed didn't allow for enough room to fully roll over. As usual, her brother was hogging the queen size bed, leaving little space for her to get comfortable.

Instead of rolling to her other side and going back to sleep, Mia simply laid there in the early morning brightness and watched her big brother sleep. Long chocolate brown hair was plastered to the pale skin of his face and neck, the sweat from the pain he was in only hours ago now dried and causing his limp locks to stick against his forehead and curve of his neck. With the slightest of touch, she brushed away what hair she could. They'd had a long night, nearly sleepless for the both of them as the mysterious pain that controlled his life tormented him, until his body gave up and passed out from the pain. Mia had no idea what was plaguing her brother, but whatever had taken hold of him nearly a year ago was growing more prevalent with each passing day. Searing headaches, nausea, vomiting, and debilitating weakness now kept her once vibrant and enthusiastic older brother in constant pain and sequestered in their home most days.

Tears pickled in Mia's eyes as she studied his pale, sickly features. The same nose, chin and lips that looked damned near plain on her, somehow held an almost intoxicating beauty on her brother. And don't even get her started on the thick, lush eyelashes that rested against the dark circles beneath his closed eyes. She'd had to swipe on layer after layer of mascara before the turn to achieve half the thickness of Micah's eyelashes. Now? After the fall of the world? Well, she was relegated to small eye status, while his espresso colored eyes looked larger than life, thanks to the thick fringe around them. It really wasn't fair.  
But, life wasn't fair. That much she had figured out long ago.

Micah murmured in his sleep and inched even closer her, an action that probably seemed weird to anyone that wasn't a twin, but there was a closeness between the two siblings that few could ever understand. They had spent months in utero, snuggling against one another, and that attachment had waned very little in the thirty three years since the day they were born. It was that closeness that had kept other relationships at bay for her brother, the seemingly endless parade of women in his life that hadn't been able to share him with his twin sister. The jealousy Mia had endured from more than one of Micah's girlfriends was epic, but in the end she was still there and they were not.

In fact, the only person who had been able to break through the barrier had been their friend, Brian, who had ended up marrying Mia. Brian understood to an extent, mostly because they had all three grown up together, so he was used to the twin closeness and sometimes odd behavior. He had simply been content to have her love, and to know that there was someone in her life that would take care of her while he was overseas fighting for their country. Her Brian had been one of a kind and there wasn't a day that passed that Mia's heart didn't ache for her husband, but up until Micah had developed whatever illness that was slowly killing him a little bit more every day, Mia had held on to the comfort that while she no longer had her husband, she at least had her brother. Unfortunately, with each passing day, the reality that she would soon be without the both of them was starting to set in.

Giving way to the overwhelming grief in her heart, Mia managed to hold back the tears and sobs until she was safely tucked away behind the closed door of the bathroom across the hall from Micah's bedroom. Her vision blurry from the tears, she pushed in the flimsy lock on the door, before grabbing a washcloth from the rack beside the sink. After wetting it, Mia let the navy blue washcloth slip from her hand to rest in the bottom of the basin instead of wiping her face with it. Instead, she clutched the sides of the cool basin and sobbed openly.

Leaning over, her hold still firm against the basin, Mia's tears fell from her eyes and splattered against the washcloth. She had no idea how she was going to manage without her brother, they were two halves of a whole and without him she was going to be lost. There had yet to be a day in either of their lives when they weren't together. Hell, even when she and Brian had gotten married the only person to ever stay in their guest room had been Micah, and he had stayed their more often than he had stayed at his own home. So much so, that when Brian had shipped out for his second deployment, Micah had subleased his apartment and moved in to the two bedroom bungalow with Mia so she wouldn't be alone. She had never had to live by herself and Mia wasn't sure if she was strong enough to make it on her own. Sure, she had Blake and Mae, but the connection she shared with them was nothing compared to what she shared with her husband, and certainly not with her sibling.

The only thing Mia knew for sure was that she had no intention of letting Micah watch the community he had built succumb to Gage's dictatorship. Her brother had worked his hands to the bone when they had found a place they felt they could settle down in, finally giving up the nomadic lifestyle their group had had for the first few years after the turn. Micah had spent more than one sleepless night making sure their home was secure, helping to build fences and cultivate backyards to make gardens, and figuring out how to survive like a normal civilization. And, once they had a foothold on their lives, he had started sending out groups to find those in need so that they could offer them a place to feel safe and call home. He certainly had no intention of bringing in young men and women to make them slaves. Hell no.

Looking back, the ideas Micah had back in the early days were a clear sign of the weakened state of his mind, Mia just hadn't really paid attention to it. Micah had always been a little on the eccentric side, often becoming obsessed with random ideas and falling headfirst into new experiences, only to grow bored fairly quickly and letting them fall to the wayside. So, when he had started spouting about saving the world and building a community to regrow civilization, Mia had simply chalked his comments up to Micah's normal behavior. But, somewhere along the way she had finally paid attention to the insane turn his ramblings took and really listened when he started spouting about being the savior of the world, of being the one that God wanted to save humanity. It was those words, coupled with the nosebleeds and searing headaches that finally made Mia pay attention to the state of her brother's sanity.

And it was that weakened state of his mind that allowed Gage to step up and slither his way into a position of authority. At first, Mia had just been grateful for the help, Gage was taking care of the community, so she could focus her attention on her brother. But, things had quickly spiraled out of control, when Gage started whispering his ideas into Micah's ear, slowly but surely taking over control. Under Gage's rule, the people they “rescued” became his slaves, the women relegated to cooking and cleaning, and the men to the fields.

Sure, it could be worse. They were safe, they had food and a bed to sleep in at night. But, how long would it be before the slaves were expected to do more than keep up the homes and grow the food? Hell, she had already caught one of his men groping a young girl in the kitchen of one of the homes earlier in the year. The poor girl had been paralyzed by fear, wide eyed with tears, as the disgusting pervert pawed at her, sticking his hands beneath her clothes as he forcefully kissed her.

Mia's stomach churned at the thought of what would have happened to Lucy had she not stepped into the kitchen at Gage’s house for a glass of water at that exact moment. She knew that Gage still wasn't happy with her decision on how to handle the situation, but damned if Mia didn't think that a public hand chopping off wasn't one of the more humane ways to deal with a child molesting pervert. He'd stuck his hand where it wasn't supposed to be and she had doled out a punishment that she had thought was fair. Had she caught Larry doing something worse than pawing at the poor girl, she would have notched up the punishment to death and not felt a damned bit of remorse for it.

God, how was she going to handle Gage and the rest of the barbarians he surrounded himself with after Micah was gone? Blake wasn't going to be any help at all, and Mae, as much good as she meant, didn't have any control over the boy that had spent years running around with her son either. Mia was going to have to figure out something, and soon, but it wasn't like she could just gather up the slaves and run out into the wild blue yonder without any plan as to where to go and how to keep everyone safe.

Taking a deep breath, Mia pushed herself upright and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Tears clung to her reddened cheeks and her chestnut colored hair was a rat’s nest around her tired face. Since there wasn't much she could do to fix her appearance, she scrubbed at her face to clean off the tears and then brushed out her hair until it only waved wildly around her face. It was as good as she was going to get without the help of a beautician.

Shimmying out of her boxer shorts, Mia pulled on the blue jeans she had left on the floor from the day before and slipped on a bra beneath the ribbed white tank she had slept in. She was in the midst of swiping on a tiny bit of deodorant, being mindful of how much she used since they were rationing out toiletries that had been scavenged over the years, when someone knocked on the bathroom door. Figuring on it being Blake, since Micah would have just tried to barge in before realizing it was locked, she reached over and opened the door.

“Morning,” Mia greeted him as she squirted a teensy dollop of toothpaste onto her toothbrush. Before sticking it into her mouth, she asked, “He didn't keep you up last night, did he?”

“Heard him scream out a couple times,” Blake replied as he took a seat on the closed toilet seat, clutching a black and white speckled notebook against his chest. “It's okay though, I know Micah's in pain. It wasn't like he meant to wake me up.”

Spitting out the minty foam into the sink, Mia ran the brush under a trickle of water before replacing it in the holder by the mirror. Glancing over to Blake, she nodded towards the notebook and asked, “Whatcha got?”

“I started going through that guy's stuff last night.” Blake waved off her muttered curse and apology about forgetting to do the task before bed. “You were busy, it's fine. Anyway, I found something I think you'll want to read.”

Mia reached out to take the notebook, before motioning to Blake to follow her. “Let's grab something to eat, I'm starved, and you can fill me in.”

After grabbing a meager breakfast of fruit and a chunk of dried meat, they sat around the scuffed kitchen table and chewed on their breakfast while Mia started flipping through the notebook. Filled with damned near indecipherable handwriting, she was glad that Blake had already read what looked to be a journal, because she was too damned exhausted to deal with figuring out what the man's chicken scratch handwriting said.

“See? The entries match up to the marks on this map,” Blake said enthusiastically, as he spread out a well-used map across the table. Pointing out the handful of notations on the map, he showed Mia where each mark on the map coincided with a page of the journal. “He's the one, Mia. The one that took out all those places we heard about. The one that took away those women and kids.”

“He's not The One, Blake,” Mia replied with a sour expression as she studied the notes closer. “There's no way he did all that alone. No freaking way. There were easily five men at each camp, at the least. He didn't go in and take everyone out by his self. That's just...impossible.”

“Not if he did it at night? You heard what the last group said when they got back, about that one place, it looked like someone got the men in their sleep. Slipped in and stabbed each one in the damned head and then just slipped out with the women and kids there. Like a ninja!” The excitement on Blake's face should have been contagious, but suspicion crept in and took over Mia's thoughts as she read through the lists, the women and children that had been taken from each camp.

“What'd he do with them?” Mia asked, more for herself than Blake. She chewed on her lip as she flipped to the next page and read the notes on it. Six camps taken out, at least forty men, if not more, and twenty three women and children taken, but where? There were no notes about what he did with them afterwards. Not a single clue.

“He's what you need, Mia. What we need to get out of here.” Blake's hand covered hers, tearing Mia's attention away from the notebook. “He can help us.”

“No. He can't. Don't you get it? There's no way he did that by himself. No way. And what'd he do with the people he took? There's no mention of it. Hell, Blake, he probably has a group somewhere that goes in and does this, then shit...trades the people off or something. He's not going to help us.” Gesturing to the map, she pointed out one of the markers on it and continued, “Don't you see it? He's got a mark by us. He was coming here, Blake. His fucking group is probably right outside just waiting to make their move!”

And she had brought him right inside their walls, like a fucking Trojan horse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey, hope you guys enjoyed the chapter and the start of getting to know Mia a bit better. She's really growing on me as of late. Not as much as I like Sam from Need You Now, but I'm liking her a lot, so I hope you guys will, too.


	13. Chapter 13

_“I won't be, I won't be your hero  
I won't be your superman.  
Everything I did was for you,  
Everything you said was a lie.  
My pain, your gain.  
Who's your hero today?”_

Pop Evil _“Hero”_  


Locked away in what he hoped would be a temporary holding cell, Daryl's stomach growled angrily and his bladder screamed for release. The hunger he could deal with. Hell, it wasn't like this was the first time he had missed a meal and definitely wouldn't be the last. No, what was pissing him off the most was the almost painful need to take a leak. Normally, he would just piss in a corner and call it a day, but since he had no clue how long he would be locked in the bedroom he didn't want to do that, not unless it was absolutely the last option he had. It wasn't like he wanted to hang out in a closed in, hot ass room with his piss festering in the corner, stinking up the room with the cloying smell of ammonia. So, as painful as it was, he held it in, and damned if doing so wasn't giving him a fucking headache on top of everything else.

His mood was beyond sour when he heard the first sounds of someone entering the house. As quietly as possible, Daryl pushed aside the need to piss and stealthily crawled off the narrow bed to slink across the room and crouch down beside the door at the same time someone started fiddling with the deadbolt on the other side. His heart pounded loudly in his chest as he waited with bated breath for whomever it was coming into the room to show themselves. Call it petty, but he hoped to hell it was that damned bitch that knocked the shit out of him the day before. It wasn't like he hadn't been whacked in the head before, but there was something about that particular incident, and woman, that just stuck in his craw. Yeah, he would like a few minutes alone with that woman, just to show her how it felt to have the stock end of a rifle slammed against her temple.

As luck would have it, what little he seemed to have lately, the person on the other side of the door was exactly who he hoped it would be. Missy? Mandy? Eh, whatever the hell the bitches name was, he couldn't remember her name, but he recalled perfectly what looked like Asian l inspired artwork that snaked up both of her arms as she brought down the rifle stock against his head, and those arms were currently pulling open the door.

Without hesitating, Daryl lashed out and grabbed hold of the closest forearm and tugged her violently inside the room. Catching her off guard, he wrapped his other hand around her neck and shoved her back against the wall with enough force to knock some of the breath out of her. Growling with the frustration from being cooped up against his will, spittle flew from his mouth to land on her cheek as he demanded his freedom.

"Let me the fuck out of here," Daryl ground out between clenched teeth. He was close enough to her that he could see not only rage and defiance in her gaze, but also a satisfying glimmer of fear flickering in her hazel eyes. He could also feel the rise and fall of her breasts against his chest as she struggled to catch her breath, and glanced down to watch a droplet of sweat trickle from beneath the palm of his clammy hand and slip slowly down the curve of her neck as it headed towards the low cut neckline of the fitted tank top she wore, no doubt making its way to pool between the swell of her pert breasts.

Pulling his gaze from her chest, back upwards to her gaze, Daryl felt the pleasing sensation of triumph as she struggled against his hold, before the telltale sound of a gun cocking caught his attention. Turning his head ever so gently to the side, he met the stony eyed glare of what he thought was the gentle souled woman who had tended to his wounds the day before. He also came face to face with the 9mm Glock pointed directly at him with a steady hand.

Grimacing, Daryl turned his gaze back to the woman he was holding and snarled at her in anger, before dropping his hand from her neck and releasing his hold on her arm. Pushing away from her, he stalked across the room to stand beside the barred window. He refused to acknowledge the he had once again been bested by a fucking woman, or the fact he was pouting about it.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as his captor gingerly touched a shaky hand to her red marked throat and coughed as she gasped for much needed oxygen. He had obviously had a tighter hold on her neck than he had thought, not that he was overly shaken up about hurting the woman who was holding him hostage.

“And here I told Mia you wouldn't hurt her,” Mae pointed out with a touch of disappointment hanging on her words as she handed off the pistol to Mia, who seemed to have finally gotten the breath she was searching for and straightened herself out. Standing in front of him now, she reached out and gingerly poked at the bandages on the cut above his eyebrow. “Guess I was wrong about you.”

“Ain't like you know me or nothing,” Daryl groused, managing to only wince slightly as her fingers probed his injury. His foul mood had taken a turn for the worse, now that his attempt at escaping had failed miserably. “Barely even touched her anyhow.”

“Enough so that she's probably going to have bruises around her neck,” Mae pointed out matter-of-factually, before taking a step away from him. Clearly satisfied with the state of his injury, since she didn’t bother to doctor it in any way, she asked, “Think you can behave long enough to eat and get cleaned up?”

Daryl shrugged one shoulder casually, as though taking care of the two things he desperately needed to do wasn't important, he cocked his head ever so slightly to glare at Mia, who was hovering in the open doorway with the pistol trained on him. “Yeah.”

“Very well then,” Mae motioned for him to follow behind her as she turned and led the way from the room. “Blake's not here with the food yet, so bathroom it is. Shampoo and soap are in the shower, to be used sparingly. We’ve got a well, but you have to use them hand pump to pull the water up, since there isn’t any power for the pump. Just push on it when you’re ready to rinse off. When you're done, knock on the door and Mia will unlock it for you.”

Or, judging by the expression on the woman's face, she would likely let him rot away inside the pale blue tiled bathroom. Not that he didn't deserve it, because it seemed like Mae was correct in her assumptions that Mia's neck would be bruised, since the red marks circling the pale column were growing angrier with each passing moment. Stepping inside the room, he chose to not speak to either woman as Mae shut the door and the sound of a deadbolt clicking shut sounded from the other side.

First thing first, Daryl lifted the lid on the toilet and quickly lowered the zipper on his pants to grab hold of his dick for a much needed piss. It seemed like the leak that was never going to end, but eventually the stream weakened and finally quit, leaving a feeling of utter gratification in its wake. He couldn't recall the last time he had taken a piss, the day before obviously, but Daryl was quite certain that it had been well over twenty four hours.

Feeling lighter and in less pain, he pulled back the curtain on the claw foot tub and eyeballed the set up. The shower would be cold, but it would be a shower nonetheless, and he hadn’t had one in a while. He normally would forgo the shower, he wasn't like he wasn't accustomed to going without, but he stank to high heaven and being locked in that tiny bedroom with the stench he was sporting was making life even more unbearable. A shower was probably a necessity, that's for sure.

His skin pebbled beneath the frigid water, but Daryl paid it no attention as he quickly ran the bar of soap over his limbs, torso and crotch, squirting a bit of water to rinse off his skin here and there. Dirt swirled on the white tub floor beneath his feet, leaving grime and grit in its wake as the water pulled it down the drain. After shampooing his hair, longer than when he had chopped it off the year before at the lodge, but shorter than it had been before he had located Mary, Daryl pushed the lever and stood beneath the icy stream of water for no other reason than to enjoy the feeling, before turning off the shower and grabbing hold of the sage green towel he had tossed over the curtain rod. Toweling off quickly, he stepped out of the tub and stared at the pile of dirty clothes laying on the floor next to the rug. Sucked to have to put those back on when he was actually clean for the first time in a long time, but those clothes were all he had, other than what was in his bag, which he had no clue as to where it was.

As he leaned over to grab hold of the dirt covered pants, Daryl saw a stack of clean clothes laying on the counter that he was certain weren't there when he got into the shower. Or, at least, he was fairly certain they hadn't been anyway. Dropping his dirty pants back to the floor, he grabbed hold of the new items and inspected the offering. Standard issue brown pants and a gray short sleeved button up, plus boxers, socks, a belt and boots.

It wasn't high fashion, not that he was a high fashion kind of guy, but it was better than what he had and for that, he was grateful. Slipping on the clean clothes, he was lacing up the hunting boots that were about a half size too big, when someone knocked on the door.

“Hey, food's here if you're ready,” Mia's voice called out to him, husky as though she was a smoker in a former life. When he replied and said he was finished in the bathroom, she unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door, stepping away from it with the pistol in her hand as she made room for him to exit the bathroom. “Good, those look like they fit. I wasn't sure if they would.”

“They're fine,” Daryl replied suspiciously, wondering how in the hell this woman had went from smacking him in the head and holding him hostage, to bringing him clean clothes and making niceties, especially after he had tried to choke the life out of her not an hour earlier.

She stood there for a moment in silence, probably waiting for him to offer up an ounce of gratitude for letting him shower and put on clean clothes, but she could stand there and continue to hold her breath while waiting for that to happen. He would be damned if he was going to say thank you to her, even if she was being a hell of a lot nicer than she had been the day before.

After a moment of awkward silence, she gave up and motioned for him to go on into the main living space of the home. It was an open floor plan that allowed for someone in the living room to see straight into the kitchen, which was where a plate of food was waiting for him on the counter. Heading over, he sank down onto a stool and started shoveling in the meats and vegetables without waiting to be given permission to do so. Using his hands, elbows balanced on the Formica counter top for leverage, he inhaled the food at the speed of light, chewing noisily and with his mouth wide open for the majority of the meal, earning what looked like an expression of disgust from his captor and her obviously gay partner.

He hadn't had manners before the fucking apocalypse and Daryl would be damned if he would develop them now, especially not to satisfy some damned bitch who was staring at him like he was the scum of the earth. Finished, he shoved the plate away from him and offered up a belch in response, imitating the men in the Dixon bloodline with such accuracy he momentarily forgot that his goal in life was not to become like his brother and the men before him. But, doing so earned him a look of revulsion from the woman he currently loathed, so he mentally put a notch in the win category.

“Okay, you've been fed and allowed to clean up,” Mia finally said, once it was glaringly obvious he wasn't going to be the one to break the ice. “Now it's time to answer some questions.”

“Ask away,” Daryl huffed out an amused response. “Don't mean I'm gonna answer.”

“You can make this as easy or as hard as you want,” Mia growled, taking a step in his direction. Standing in front of him now, only the counter between them, she glowered at him and asked, “Tell me what you're doing around here. What are your plans? One way or the other, I will get the answers I need, Daryl.”

The fuck? Narrowing his eyes, Daryl wondered how in the hell she had figured out his name. It wasn't like it was written in Sharpie marker in his underwear or anything stupid like that.

As if she could hear the questions in his mind, Mia slapped down his speckled black and white notebook onto the counter and pulled a folded piece of paper out from beneath its pages. Opening it up, she slapped it down onto the counter with the palm of her hand. Glancing down, Daryl saw that the piece of paper was actually the drawing that Judith had made of him with her, Lily and Wolf.

Well, that explained the name thing. Mia had simply put two and two together and made an educated guess, which worked in her favor. Reaching out a hand, Daryl snatched the drawing away from her and snarled, “That don't belong to you.”

“Wrong,” Mia scoffed, tacking on a smirk to her words. “Everything you had with you is mine now. Those are the rules around here. Hell, you're mine, too, if that's what I want.”

Well shit, Daryl thought. That was just fucking wonderful.


	14. Chapter 14

_“The past is haunting me._  
Let go and set me free.  
Open the door to the unknown.” 

Motionless In White “Break the Cycle”

The air was stifling in the room, hot and moist, thanks to the mid-summer weather boiling the world just outside the open window that was doing little to nothing to cool the room. Damn Alabama, Mia thought, damn it and its God forsaken heat and humidity during the summer. One would think she would be used to it by now, having lived in the state since day one of her life, but she wasn't so lucky as to have that happen. Nope, summer barged in each year, pushing past a ridiculously short spring season, and brought in unbearable heat that humidity that she highly doubted anyone could ever fully grow accustomed to.

Melting, the worn cotton of her tank beyond soaked with sweat and sticking uncomfortably to her skin, Mia stood up from the coffee table that she had been sitting at for hours while she questioned Daryl. Stretching, she groaned slightly at the satisfaction of having her back and hips pop, relieving the tension that had built up in them from staying in a stationary position for so long. She added a quick tilt to each side with her head to crack it as well, before turning her annoyed glare back to the obstinate man in front of her.

“You know, if you'd just answer my questions, we could call it a day,” Mia pointed out to Daryl, who simply sat there, as quiet as he had done for every question she had asked him since he had gotten out of the shower.

Frustrated, she growled and slapped a hand against the table top. “For fuck's sake, man, do you like sweating your damned balls off or something? Is this fun for you? Because I can think of better things to do with my time.” Like sneaking away and going swimming, despite Gage's orders not to, but she didn't vocalize that.

Met with only an amused glimmer in his icy blue eyes, Mia had to reach down deep inside herself and muster up what self-restraint she had left, because she was half a second away from lunging across the table and smacking the shit out of the infuriating asshole. Instead of punching him, she flung her hands up exasperatedly and sighed in defeat. “Fine. Just fine. Sit there and rot for all I care. I can't stay in here a second longer.”

Turning on her heel, she started to march towards the front door, but paused long enough to grab the notebook off the table, too. Hell if she was going to leave him with a damned thing to do, but maybe read one of the trashy romance novels stashed around the house. The thought of this obvious alpha male reading a bodice ripping trash novel was actually quite amusing, Mia decided. She quickly shoved the crayon drawing back between the pages of the notebook, finally earning a reaction from the man.

“You don't want me to take that, do you?” Mia asked curiously as she slipped the drawing back out of the notebook. “I could give it to you. I don't need it after all.” While he didn't answer, the look that flashed in his gaze let her know she had struck a chord. “You'll have to give me something, of course. Tit for tat, and all.”  
Unfolding the drawing, she laid it on top of the notebook in her hand and studied it, taking in the dog as large as the house the people were drawn in front of and the couple with their hands intertwined. Seems her guest had enough of a personality to form some relationships after all, and she wondered where the woman and the child in the picture were.

Holding it out towards him, but not so far that he could reach it, Mia asked, “Where's your people, Daryl?”

“They ain't here, alright?” Daryl finally growled angrily. Mia damn near jumped for joy at the sound of his voice. Progress was progress, she just had to find out what he wanted bad enough to get him to trade information. “They're damned on the other side of Georgia.”

“Thank you,” Mia replied as she handed over the drawing. While she couldn't be one hundred percent sure that he was telling the truth, it was the most he had given her all day.

Once the exchange was complete, she stood there and watched as he studied the picture, running the tip of one finger over the crudely drawn shapes with tender loving care. Whomever the others in the drawing were, he obviously cared a great deal for them. Mia's heart melted ever so slightly at the look of longing on Daryl's face, felt it crack just a bit and chip away at the stone wall that she had erected in place to deal with the stranger, and before she could reign in the words, she asked, “Would you like to go outside for a little while? It's hot, but there's at least a breeze out there.”

“I'm fine in here,” Daryl grumbled without bothering to glance up in her direction. Instead, he pushed back from the table with a screech of the chairs against the floor and stomped towards the bedroom she had put him in the night before. The only other response Mia got from the infuriating man was a slam of the bedroom door that was so forceful the pictures on the walls rattled.

“Asshole,” Mia muttered to herself, cursing the man that was driving her absolutely bat shit wonky. At the rate they were going, getting the information she needed out of him was going to take slap until winter, or forever, which was a possibility.

Unfortunately, that day proved to be the most productive day of questioning the infuriating man. By day three of staring at one another, sweating their proverbial asses off in the living room of the stifling house, Mia was ready to pull out all of her hair and have a full-fledged mental breakdown. Even worse, Daryl seemed to be less than fazed by the silent stare down, which only annoyed Mia further.

Mia was half a second away from calling it quits for the day, when the front door opened and flooded the darkened room with sunlight from the afternoon sun. A large shadow filled the foyer, followed shortly after its owner, Gage's right hand man, Jimmy. She tried her best to keep the scowl of displeasure off her face as the beast of a man stepped into the room, middle aged and on his way to a full head of gray hair, the expression on his face mirrored the one on hers. They had not liked one another since day one, and their contempt only grew in its intensity with each passing day.

“Gage wants him at dinner,” Jimmy said without the formality of greeting either of them, no doubt the superiority of his importance made him feel that such trivial matters weren't necessary.

“Did he say why?” Mia inquired, while discreetly tucking the notebook with Daryl's secrets written inside beneath a throw pillow on the couch. While she didn't agree with Blake about Daryl's ninja-like escapades, the last thing she wanted was for Jimmy to get hold of the notebook just in case she was wrong. If Daryl was in fact some super hero rescuer of women and children forced into slavery, the very last thing she needed was for Jimmy to take off running to Gage with the information.

Not that she believed Blake's crazy notions anyway, but there was no harm in keeping the information secret just in case. Plus, the thought of what Gage would do if he found out that she was harboring someone who had a tendency to sneak into camps, slaughter the men and steal the commodities wasn't a pleasant thing to imagine. Nope, she had no desire to have the shit beat out of her by her former childhood friend turned sociopath, so keeping the information from him was the best thing for everyone involved.

“No, and I didn't ask,” Jimmy growled, annoyance flickering across his face. Mia had learned a long time ago that James “Jimmy” Mitchell didn't appreciate being questioned, especially by a woman, which was probably why she made it a point to always badger him with questions. “Get him cleaned up and make sure he's there. Quit asking fucking questions, just do what you're told.”

“But where's the fun in that, Jimmy,” Mia taunted, poking the proverbial bear with yet another question. Her comment earned her yet another steely eyed glare, which she put in the win category, as she pushed off the couch and pointed towards Daryl. “You heard the man, shower time. Dinner's not far off and I want to get cleaned up, too.”

“You ain't invited.” Jimmy informed her with barely contained glee. “Guy’s night, remember? Gage wants to get to know the new guy or something, without you there. Hell, probably figures you ain't getting nothing out of him anyway, might as well take over.”

“How I'm doing in here isn't anyone's business but my own,” Mia retorted, putting her hands on her hips and glaring at Jimmy. She took a calming breath and shoved aside the distress that bubbled up inside at the thought of Daryl being alone with Gage, if Jimmy saw how his comments stressed her out he might take more of an interest in Daryl. Maybe, not likely since Jimmy was an idiot, but there was always a chance. Mustering up a calm demeanor of nonchalance, Mia shrugged and said, “But you guys can have at it. I'm tired of being locked up in here with Mr. Silent and Boring. I'll make sure he's there in time and sufficiently sanitized.”

“Good to hear,” Jimmy patted her on the head like a damned child, knowing full well by doing so he was just infuriating her further, and turned to head for the door. “Don't be late. You know the boss hates that.”

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you,” Mia muttered as she closed the door behind Jimmy. Leaning forward, she rested her forehead on the door and felt the hot bubble of worry start to gnaw at her belly. There was no way she could control which direction the conversation took if she wasn't at the house for dinner, but it wasn't like Daryl was known for his chatty personality, so maybe things weren't as bad as she was imagining.

Lifting her forehead from the door, Mia turned to face Daryl, who as usual was silently staring at her. Pointing towards the bathroom, she growled, “Hurry up and shower. We've got some shit to cover before you head off to the damned lion's den. And, find your fucking voice while you're in the shower, I'm tired of the silent bullshit.”

Of course he didn't say anything to her as he walked towards the bathroom, silently slipping past her with barely a glance. The door clicked shut and Mia heard the sound of water running, before she darted towards the couch and grabbed the notebook from beneath the pillow.

She was studying the first page when the front door opened again, this time bringing more pleasant company. Relieved to find Blake instead of Jimmy again, or worse, Gage, she patted the cushion next to her and said, “Come. Sit. We've got to figure out what to do, Gage wants Daryl at tonight’s festivities.”

“So, let him go. It's not like the man's going to spill any secrets. I've met rocks that aren't as quiet as he is.” Blake shrugged a shoulder before leaning back against the sofa cushions. “Why are you worried? It's not like you think he's been saving these women, right? And wouldn't his people have already busted him out of here if they were nearby?”

“If Gage finds out Daryl was the one that had killed off all those men and stole their property, he is going to flip the fuck out. That’s why. And, if Daryl tells him that we knew? Dear sweet baby Jesus, he's going to...I don't even want to verbalize what he's going to do to us, Blake.” Mia visibly shuddered at the thought. Waving the notebook in her hand towards her clueless friend, she added, “I should have told him to begin with. If I had just told him, then we wouldn't have to worry about literally keeping our skin on our bodies. I should've just let him handle the situation, but no-somewhere in the back of my mind there was this voice telling me that the infuriating bastard in that bathroom over there is some saint who rescues women and children. That the scruffy asshole that's been aggravating the shit out of me could actually help us.”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Mia sighed in frustration. “I don't even agree with you, but I let your damned rambling nonsense keep me from doing what I should have from the start.”

“You can't tell me that a man that carries around a picture that some kid colored for him is all bad,” Blake argued with a smirk.

“He's worse,” Mia countered, “I don't like him. Haven't from day one. I don't know why I haven't just handed him off to Gage or one of his guys yet.”

“He didn't seem to think that badly of you that first day,” Blake pointed out with a half tilted grin. “Was checking you out real nice when I found him. He was probably half a second away from drooling, I think.”

“Ew. Stop it.” Mia shook her head in disgust at the thought and smacked Blake with the notebook. “There's only one man here who can ogle me in my skivvies, dear, and that's you. And, only because I know you don't care.”

“Oh, I care! I care because I find your skivvies to be cute or you know, if you have some skeevy guy staring at you, I just don't find you attractive in that way.” Blake snorted with laughter and poked her in the side. “Wrong parts and all.”

“Maybe that's why you think this guy is some hero? Are you fantasizing about him rescuing you?” Mia howled with laughter that she hadn't known she needed so badly, already feeling the stress of the situation lifting away ever so slightly.

“Girl, I haven't been “rescued” in a long time, but if anyone needs that around here it's you,” Blake replied seriously, knowing just how long it had been since Mia had been with anyone else besides her husband. “You need to get-”

Blake's comments trailed off suddenly and Mia knew without turning around that Daryl he had entered the room. Glancing over her shoulder, Mia pointed towards the chair he had occupied for the majority of the past three days and said, “Have a seat. We need to go over a few things before you meet Gage.”

She waited until he was seated before talking again, but she was cut off by Blake.

“Look, will you just tell Mia you aren't the damned Boogie Man already?” Blake scooted to the edge of the sofa with his eyes locked on Daryl, every trace of amusement that was in his eyes now gone. “She's scared you're going to kill everyone here, including her. Don't you get that? So, just tell her the truth so we can figure out where to go from here.”

“The truth?” Daryl asked, finally speaking after so many days of refusing to do so for her. His voice was scratchy, his tone full of gravel and grit as he stared at Blake with icy blue eyes.

“Yeah, the truth.” Blake snatched the notebook from Mia's hands and tossed it onto the coffee table between them. “That you saved those women and children from the guys you killed. That you did it alone and that you took them somewhere safe.”

Mia stared at Daryl with wide eyes, her breath hitched in her throat as she waited for his answer. Her heart sank at his words when he finally spoke, and Blake's merely broke in half.

“Why you think that's what happened?”


	15. Chapter 15

_“Aren't you tired of being weak?_  
Such rage that you could scream  
The stars right out of the sky.  
And destroy the prettiest starry night  
Every evening that I die,  
I am exhumed just a little less human and a lot more bitter and cold.” 

_Atreyu “Lip Gloss and Black"_

“Why you think that's what happened?” Daryl asked gruffly as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the wooden slats of the uncomfortable dining chair he had been sitting in for hours on end over the past few days.

Glaring at the duo across from him from beneath the shaggy swatch of dark bangs that fell into his line of sight no matter how many times he brushed them to the side, he snorted at the crestfallen expressions staring back at him. Snorting derisively at Blake in particular, he added, “Shit, kid, what world you living in? It don't work that way.”

It didn't matter that Blake was actually right in his assumptions, all Daryl could focus on was the fact that these two were part of a ring of shitheads that traded goods for kids and then did God knows what with them. Last thing he needed was the two of them finding out that he did in fact rescue those women and children, just like Blake figured out. He had worked his ass off slaughtering the assholes that had been holding them hostage, sneaking the groups through the woods and delivering them to the relative safety of the lodge and his family, so he'd be damned if he was going to let anyone know where those women and children were, especially a bunch of assholes that might just up and go find them and stick them right back in a life of slavery. Fuck that shit.

So, Daryl went with the only option he had and that was to pretend he was just as depraved as the people holding him hostage, that he had killed all those men and taken their hostages as his own, to do with as he pleased. Let them believe he had traded them off like livestock, or taken them back to his own place to keep them like his own personal harem. At least this way the only one that ended up dead or stuck in a cage was himself, this way would mean that his conscience was clean.

“But...but what did you do with them then? Where are they if you didn't take them somewhere safe?” Blake countered, his voice no longer holding the conviction it had when he challenged Daryl to tell the truth.

“They ain't with me, are they? It ain't like I got 'em stored somewhere, kid.” Daryl averted his eyes, hiding from the people sitting across from him with expressions on their face like he had just skinned their favorite puppy. “Done what you do with goods, sold 'em. Traded 'em off for goods if I needed something. That's what they're there for, ain't it?”

“You're disgusting,” Mia spat out, finally finding her voice so that she could berate him thoroughly, not that Daryl didn't deserve it with the tale he was spinning.

Not that it wasn't like he didn't deserve it, just thinking about trading a woman or child off to some sick pervert for a meal made his stomach turn, but who the hell was this woman to judge him. Just who in the hell did this woman think she was? Like she wasn't doing the same damned thing she was belittling him for doing? Hypocritical bitch. Daryl snarled at her in response and started to tell Mia just what he thought about her, when she suddenly picked up the gun lying on the couch beside her thigh.

“Fuck it, we don't need him.” Mia's hand shook nearly as much as her voice as she pointed the pistol directly at his head and thumb cocked the hammer.

The world around him slowed to a mere crawl as their eyes locked across the coffee table. Daryl held his head high, refusing to cower in the face of death, and bit his tongue. He sure as hell wasn't going to beg for his life, especially not to the bitch who was looking at him like he was a piece of dog shit on the bottom of her boot.

He accepted his fate in that moment and said a silent prayer for the safety of the family he had left behind, and then taunted death by cocking one eyebrow in defiance. Daryl watched as Mia's finger twitched against the trigger, almost as though she was having second thoughts, but the hate flowing from her gaze told him a different story. This woman loathed him with every fiber of her being and killing him would likely be the bright spot in her week.

And, just when he thought his life was about to be snuffed out like a flame in a raging storm, she dropped her hand. The pistol laid on her thigh with her shaking hand still clutching the cool metal tightly. He had no idea why his life was spared in that moment, but Daryl didn't bother to look a gift horse in the mouth. He was still alive.

Blake, who had been frozen during the whole ordeal from shock and fear, finally let out the breath he had been holding in. Trembling, he reached over and uncurled Mia's fingers from their death grip on the pistol, quickly moving it out of reach in case she changed her mind once again. His eyes were wide and radiating a good deal of terror when his gaze crossed paths with Daryl's, and in them, Daryl could see just how terrified the young man was of the current situation he had ended up in.

Suddenly, the sound of a door being yanked open broke the thick blanket of uncomfortable silence in the house. Daryl's heart skipped a beat at the unexpected intrusion, but his reaction wasn't nearly as intense as the one's from Blake and Mia, who both appeared as though they nearly jumped straight out of their skin.

Fully expecting the surprise visitor to be the illusive Gage in search of the captive he had invited to dinner, Daryl's tension levels dropped significantly when he spied a young girl standing awkwardly in the foyer. Caramel colored hair, highlighted by the summer sun, wide green eyes that somehow still held the innocence of childhood despite the surroundings she had ended up living in, and a gap between her front teeth large enough to be seen from across the room, Daryl had only just recognized who the girl was, when Mia confirmed his suspicions.

It took every ounce of willpower in his body not to smile at the discovery of the young girl who had been his mission for over a year. And it took a great deal more of fortitude to not snatch Lucy and run, killing everyone that dared to stop him while he was at it. Being without a weapon was probably the only reason he didn't at least try to get them both out of that house that very moment. He cut a glance towards the pistol that Blake was guarding protectively and nixed any thoughts of escape for the time being. But, he could be patient when needed and Daryl knew the time would come when they could slip past the guards and escape into the relative safety of the woods. He just had to bide his time.

“Lucy, what're you doing here?” Mia asked calmly, as though she hadn't been half a second away from blowing his brains out the back of his skull. Although, the slight tremor in her hands let him know that her cool demeanor was simply a facade. “Shouldn't you be helping with dinner?”

“Yes, ma'am,” Lucy replied quietly, as her gaze slipped curiously in Daryl's direction. She blushed profusely when their eyes connected and she realized he was studying her, as well. “Um, Mae needs you. Something about one of the other girls.”

“Shit,” Mia muttered, glancing from Lucy back towards him as she chewed on the inside of her lip and contemplated for a moment. “Okay, um...Blake, you good to deliver Daryl to Gage's place or you want me to have Lucy grab someone else to do it?”

“I can take him,” Blake's said with a nervous twinge to his voice. Daryl couldn't help but smirk when the young man cut his eye's towards him and laughed inside at the fear twinkling in his gaze.

Curious as to what Mia was going to do, Daryl let his line of sight wander back to the slender brunette, and wondered where she was going when she scooted off the couch and disappeared into a nearby bedroom. His curiosity was sated quickly when she returned with a pair of handcuffs dangling from the tips of her fingers. Unable to choke back the sarcastic remark on the tip of his tongue, Daryl curled one side of his mouth upwards and said, “Don't usually like to being tied up, but I'm game if you are.”

“Gross,” Mia replied with a shake of her head, as though fucking him would be the worst thing in the world, but Daryl didn't take her comment as an insult, since he had no desire to fuck her either.

Mia wiggled her fingers towards Blake, while holding out her hand. “Gun,” she demanded, and the tone of her voice clearly stated that her friend not argue with her, but Blake faltered anyway. “I'm not going to shoot him, just give me the gun.”

With the pistol in her grasp once more, Daryl wasn't surprised when she turned it towards him and he was once again faced with staring down the barrel. “Stand up.

Doing as she asked, since he wasn't quite certain that she wouldn't put a bullet between his eyes if he disobeyed her orders, Daryl held out his hands like a good little boy. “It ain't necessary. I ain't gonna hurt him.”

“I don't take chances,” Mia spit out, frustration coloring her words and matching the tension in her features. “And turn around, cuffs go behind your back. Up front is too risky.”

Groaning, because that's exactly why he wanted them cuffed up front. Daryl was quite certain that five minutes alone with Blake, hands cuffed or not, and he could be halfway out of the compound with his quarry by his side, but with his hands trussed up behind his back, the likelihood of escape was next to impossible. It wasn't completely out of the realm of possibilities, but it wasn't something he was going to try and risk being put into solitary confinement again, or worse, being killed, because neither option was beneficial to the little girl who was staring at him with giant green eyes full of curiosity and fear.

Daryl felt the cool metal slide around his wrists and cinch down tighter than he would have preferred, but it definitely wasn't the tightest he had ever had handcuffs around his wrists. More than once in his life before the outbreak, he had pissed off a police officer to the point they had tightened the cuffs as tight as humanly possible in punishment, so he could take whatever Mia could dole out.

“There,” Mia said when the cuffs were cinched around his wrists behind his back, satisfaction in her voice. “This way he can't hurt you while you're taking him over. Just make sure to not unlock him until you're at Gage's.”

Turning back to face his captors, Daryl tried his best to adjust the position of his hands, in hopes of alleviating the painful pinch they were causing in his shoulder, but failed and realized that Mia had trussed him up tighter than he had originally thought. Clearly, this woman didn't trust him not to hurt her beloved friend, not that Daryl expected her to, but still, the damned handcuffs hurt and soured his mood even further than it already was.

“Shit, can we get this show on the road? These cuffs ain't exactly pleasant,” Daryl growled impatiently, after the trio didn't start moving towards the front door. Hell, they had places to be, why were they standing around like they didn't?

Thankfully, they got their shit together and headed towards the front door. Daryl in front, with Mia and her pistol following behind him. Once outside, she handed the pistol and handcuff key to Blake and checked to make sure the handcuffs were secure before relinquishing hold over Daryl to Blake.

“Don't remove the cuffs until you're at Gage's, okay? Whatever he says, don't do it.” Mia glared at Daryl as she reminded Blake of the procedure, but finally turned to go with Lucy to wherever she was being requested. “I'll see you at the house later. Be careful.”

“I've got it, Mia. I promise.” Blake's voice sounded certain, but the shake of his hand as he held onto the gun told a different story. “It's just down the road, drop him off and then head home. No worries, right?”

“No worries,” Mia echoed, but worry was actually etched all over her face. So much so, that Daryl wondered for a brief moment if all the nervousness radiating from her was due to Blake escorting him down the road, or if it was to do with what he was being taken to...Gage.

Daryl's focus had been on Mia and her pistol for so long, that he hadn't even really given much thought to the man he was being taken to see. He had no idea what he was walking in to, so there was no way to plan for the events of the night that lay before him. Was he walking in to dinner or was he blindly be led to his death?


	16. Chapter 16

_“I'm a slave, and I am a master_  
No restraints and, unchecked collectors  
I exist through my need, to self-oblige  
She is something in me, that I despise.” 

Slipknot _“Vermillion”_

The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky, coating the lands with its lazy golden glow as it slowly descended into slumber for the evening. There was something special about the ethereal beauty of the scene before his eyes, the quiet blanket of peace that fell over the lands as night approached, the feeling of awe as the light of life slipped away for the evening had the ability to put things into perspective. The knowledge that no matter what happened during the night, day would always be there to push away the darkness with its light.

As different as he was from his younger self, one of the few things that had not changed over the years was his appreciation of a beautiful sunset. The only other thing in his life that had not wavered, was his adoration for his childhood friend, Mia Carter. The one girl he had been too scared to ask out on a date in his youth, and the one woman his heart ached for daily in adulthood.

One could say that he had a soft spot in his heart for things of beauty. At least his love of a good sunset had never disappointed him, never ignored the way he couldn't take his eyes off its shimmering radiance, and had always given him exactly what he was looking for. Mia Carter, on the other hand? Well, that woman had been disappointing him day in and day out for a solid twenty five years. One would think he would be used to it by now.

Gage Winston's mood darkened along with the evening sky, perking up only slightly at the sight of Mia's right hand man, for lack of a better word, heading towards him with their guest of honor marching along directly in front of him. Noticing the man's posture, Gage stood up from the top step of the porch and belittled Blake and his lack of commanding presence.

“If you were a real man, you wouldn't have to use the handcuffs to transport a prisoner,” Gage taunted as he shook his head in near mock disgust. It wasn't uncommon to transport prisoners from one place to the other with their hands bound, mostly Gage just liked making fun of Mia's best friend whenever humanly possible.

“Mia didn't want to take any chances. You saw her neck, we were just being careful.” Blake replied evenly, without so much as lifting his eyes to meet Gage's, bowing to the alpha male, so to speak.

It was damned near pathetic how weak Blake Martin was, which almost took away the fun that Gage derived from making fun of him...almost. “Yeah, he did do a number on Mia's neck. I can only imagine how he'd tear you apart, limb from limb. The weak do break easier, don't they?”

“Sure, Gage.” Blake sighed softly, all the while keeping his gaze turned away from Gage's, no doubt in an attempt to not show the embarrassment and likely, hatred for him in front of Daryl.

Bored with his prey, Gage waved his hand dismissively at Blake and said, “It's safe to take the handcuffs off now. I'm more than capable of making sure Daryl doesn't get loose and wreak havoc on the town.” 

“Mia said she'd stop by later and see if he's ready to be taken back for the night,” Blake informed him while unlocking the cuffs, still not bothering to look up and make eye contact with him.

Dealing with the weak was damned near boring, really. What was the point in trying to bend someone to your will, break their spirit and show them who was boss, if they never fought back first? Utterly bored with Blake, Gage changed the topic to Mia's absence instead. “Where is she anyway? Figured she'd be the one marching him up here, not you.”

“Lucy came and got her a little while ago. Said Mae needed her, some problem with one of the girls.” Blake stuffed the handcuffs into his pocket and stood awkwardly staring at the cracked cement of the sidewalk beneath his feet, shuffling from one foot to the other.

“Well, what are you waiting for? You did your job, now scram. The men around here are going to have some fun, nothing you'd be interested in.” Gage dismissed Blake with a scathing glance and turned his attention to the shaggy haired stranger standing silently between them. This Daryl may have taken a shower and changed clothes, but no amount of soap and water was going to wash away the street urchin appearance that plagued him.

The man wasn't tall, but he wasn't exactly short either. His bland brown hair fell haphazardly around his face, in dire need of a cut or a solid year of growth to tame the wayward locks. Wiry brown and gray hair grew in patches on his face, sparse on his cheeks and jawbone, reminding Gage of some of the guys in his fraternity who desperately wanted facial hair, but wasn't able to grow anything other than patches of what resembled pubic hair. However, the hair around his mouth and chin was full and liberally speckled with more gray than brown. If it wasn't for the goatee area, Gage would wonder how old the man in front of him was. Of course, if his age was in question, one look into the blue depths of his eyes to find eons of cynicism and soul crushing weariness to see that he was older in spirit than he was in reality.

“Come on inside,” Gage said as he moved to the side to allow his guest to enter his home, before turning his back on Blake and following behind Daryl. Once inside the home, Gage left the front door wide open, matching the rest of the exterior doors and windows, in hopes that the house might be gifted with a few nighttime breezes to cool the home from the hot summer day.

Stopping in the foyer, Gage took a moment to go over the rules for the evening, before carrying on to the backyard where the festivities would take place. “Your name's Daryl, right? Gage Winston,” he offered up a modicum of manners, even going to so far as to extend his hand to the man, not at all shocked when those weary blue eyes simply stared at it like he was offering up a bowl of spiders, instead of a handshake.

Not offended in the slightest, because who could blame the man for being cautious or, most likely, not liking the lot of them after spending three days with Mia breathing fire down his neck, Gage simply dropped his hand back to his side and continued on. “Anyway, nice to meet you, Daryl. I get you're not sure what to expect, what with having to deal with Mia since you've been here. She can be, uh...well, as acerbic, I guess. But, rules are rules. She found you, so you're hers to do with as she pleases.”

“Yeah, she told me as much,” Daryl finally spoke, his voice as rough as the rest of his appearance. Gage watched curiously as the man surveyed his surroundings, merely cutting his eyes to glance around the foyer.

“Well, she's not here tonight, so feel free to relax. I figure she told you the other rules?” Gage asked, waiting until Daryl looked back to him and shook his head to say that she hadn't. Frowning, Gage made a mental note to talk to Mia about what she had been up to for the past three days, before explaining, “No going outside the gate, unless I clear it. You will work, whatever you're good at just let me know. If there isn't anything specific, we'll figure out a spot for you. Everyone pays there way here, no slackers. No weapons, until I clear it. And, most of all, keep your hands to yourself. No touching the girls, the young ones. They're off limits. The older ones? Long as they aren't with someone else, you're fine, unless Mia says otherwise. We clear?”

Silence hung between them while his guest took his precious time absorbing the rules. Hell, it wasn't like they were that damned complicated. Irritated, a sarcastic remark was on the tip of Gage's tongue, when Daryl simply nodded his head in compliance. Geez, the man was damned near a mute. He was going to be a barrel of fun to spend the evening with.

Sighing, audibly enough to make sure his guest knew he was annoyed, Gage moved on to the festivities for the night. “You're in luck, by the way. About every other month or so, we guys get together and tonight's the night. We got a hog on the spit out back, got a couple bottles of whiskey from our last run up north, and some nice entertainment, if I say so myself.”

Gage moved towards the living room, motioning for Daryl to follow along as he wove them through the main rooms towards the back of the house. Once in the kitchen, he snagged his favorite mug from the sink and headed out the back door to the porch where everyone else was already located. As he stepped further outside, he glanced over his shoulder to see what Daryl thought about the setup, and felt his annoyance with the man ratchet up a few notches when there was nothing but abject boredom etched across his face.

“What? You and Blake got something in common?” Gage ground out, narrowing his eyes at Daryl suspiciously. “You gay, too?”

“Just ain't in to it when they're forced to be here,” Daryl bit back, his voice full of gravel and grit as he somehow managed to look down his nose at Gage, despite Gage being a solid half a food taller than him.

“Forced? 'Fraid you go that one wrong, man.” Gage chuckled and took a seat in his favorite wicker lounge chair. Patting his thigh, Gage waited until Cindy perched her tight little ass on it, before glancing back to Daryl. “Told you we find something for everyone if they don't have a skill otherwise. See? Cindy here is quite skilled in a few areas, none of which include domestic servitude. Can't cook to save her life, but she can shake this sweet little ass damned well. And, she can sure as hell suck a dick. Like she's trying to suck the chrome off a tailpipe, I tell you.” Pausing to laugh at his comparison, Gage turned his gaze to Cindy and asked, “Honey, you being forced to be here?”

“Not in the slightest,” Cindy replied with a sultry look, the tips of her very skilled fingers were tracing along the shell of his ear with one hand, while the other hand was slowly caressing its way down the front of his shirt. “Gage is right. I can't cook, at all. I hate cleaning. I know fuck-all about gardening. And, the thought of being stuck doing that housewife bullshit sounds terribly boring. There was always one thing I was good at before the outbreak and Gage here was kind enough to let me keep doing it here with him. Same with the other girls.”

“See? I told you,” Gage smiled up at Daryl with the grin of a tiger who had just claimed an antelope. “Girls are here because they want to be, man. Pick one and let a load off, you're in need of some stress relief looks like. Just leave Cindy alone, she's mine.”

Judging by the straight spine and hardened expression on Daryl's face, Gage highly doubted the man would be garnering any stress relief through a woman's touch any time soon. Shrugging his shoulder in defeat, Gage pointed out the liquor table and said, “Then hell, get a drink then, dude. You're killing the mood.”

Glad his guest started in the direction of the whiskey they had traded off supplies with another group up towards the Tennessee state line earlier in the year, Gage started to turn his attention back to the luscious blonde in his lap, when a thought popped into his mind. “Oh, hey, Daryl?” He paused until the man glanced back over his shoulder towards him, before adding, “Forgot one other rule. You touch Mia like that again? It'll be the last thing you ever touch. You hear me?”

A simple nod was the only response he got from Daryl, before the man prowled towards the alcohol like a man on a mission. Hell, at least there was something here that he would enjoy. But, liquor over a woman? Fuck that, Gage would choose the tasty flesh of a woman over the bite of alcohol any day...especially if that woman was Mia Carter.

And, one day it would be her. Come hell or fucking high water, one day Gage Winston would claim the object of his teenage obsessions. One fucking day.


	17. Chapter 17

_“What doesn’t kill you  
Makes you wish you were dead.  
Got a hole in my soul growing deeper and deeper  
And I can’t take,  
One more moment of this silence.  
The loneliness is haunting me,  
And the weight of the world’s getting harder to hold up.”_

Bring the Horizon _“Drown”_  


The fire pit crackled and popped, sending a scalding hot pebble flying through the air, destination unknown. Belly full of roasted pig air and fire baked potatoes, Daryl leaned back against the bare wicker couch and, for a brief moment in time, relaxed in his new surroundings. Of course, the double glasses of whiskey warming his blood likely played a large role in his relaxed demeanor. It had been a long time since he had drank alcohol and the tolerance he had built up years ago before the outbreak had disappeared. Now, half lit, he glanced around the backyard, taking in the group of men who had barely paid him a moment's notice and the handful of women who were otherwise occupied had yet to approach him, but had each cast a curious glance in his direction.

He had barely laid his head back against the couch, when the weight of someone sitting down next to him shifted the flimsy wicker. Cracking one eye, fully expecting the guest to be either Gage or one of the women, Daryl was caught off guard when he realized his guest was neither.

"You seem to have acclimated well," the man pointed out with an amused curl to the corner of his mouth, his words were softly spoken, but Daryl didn't know if that was because that was his normal tone of voice or simply because he didn't want anyone to overhear their conversation. Figuring it was a combination of both, since he had basically been a pariah since walking through the backdoor with Gage and because the man's voice resembled that of melted chocolate and thus, lent a hand to the notion that his tone was out of habit, he brushed the worry of being overheard aside, but still rearranged his position to hear the man better, just in case. Daryl barely had time to sit upright, before the man offered his hand in greeting. "Micah Carter."

"Daryl," he replied, offering up his hand in return, not quite sure why he shook this stranger's hand when he hadn't accepted the gesture when Gage offered it earlier. There was something altogether calming about being in the presence of this man, a feeling that he had never felt before and he wasn't sure he liked it all that much. Dropping his hand back to his lap, he tacked on his last name for reasons unknown. It wasn't like they used them these days. "Uh, Dixon."

"We'll, Daryl Uh Dixon," Micah continued with a chuckle, "Glad to finally meet the man who's been driving my baby sister to the brink of madness."

Now he was truly dumbfounded by the man's convivial demeanor, being Mia's brother and all, Daryl kept his mouth shut so he didn't offend the man, although being related to the woman meant he had to know how infuriating she was. But, there wasn't a pleasant thing he could say in response, so he figured the best response was none at all. Instead, he cut a glance towards the man beside him and locked eyes with a set of mesmerizing orbs the color of onyx that seemed as though they had the power to stare deep down in to his soul. Uncomfortable with the intensity of the glare, he turned his attention back to the crackling fire and took a sip of whiskey out of the third glass that had magically appeared by his side, replacing the empty one he had placed on the side table.

"Cat got your tongue?" Micah said after a gap of silence that had Daryl shaking himself out of a momentary stupor. The man laughed and shook his head, before continuing, "And here Mia was worried about your well-being. Seems to me you're three sheets to the wind and doing just fine."

"Yeah, sure she was real worried," Daryl scoffed, finding his voice as he tipped back another sip of whiskey. After the burn of liquor disappeared, he added, "Bet she was actually hoping someone would do her a favor and kill me off tonight. She's been itching to do it, just ain't gotten around to it yet.”

"Sorry to burst your bubble, man, but she's not as hateful as you think. And, if she wanted you dead, you'd be dead. Give her a chance." Micah followed suit with the alcohol and gulped back the last bit of liquor in his own glass like a man on a mission to wipe away his memories, before standing up. He stepped over Daryl’s outstretched legs, which pointed him in the direction of the liquor table, and clapped a hand on Daryl’s shoulder, and announced his departure with a slightly slurred voice, "Told her I'd check on you and I did. One piece of advice though? Watch your back. Who you think is your enemy, isn't always the one looking to stab you in the back.”

Micah's impossibly dark eyes stared down at Daryl and for a brief moment, the drunken stupor he had seen only a split second earlier seemed to have disappeared, while he paused as though he had something else to say. But, that soberness floated out the proverbial window after Micah glanced over his shoulder to where Gage was sitting with his fair-haired maiden of the evening. Voice slurred once more, Micah raised his glass to Daryl and stumbled off with a slurred goodbye. “Catch you later, Daryl Uh Dixon.”

And, just as quickly as he had arrived, Micah Carter departed and left Daryl alone. Unfortunately, he didn't stay that way for too long. He had barely had a chance to re-situate his spinning head leaned his swimming head back against the wicker backing, when one of Gage's party favors sank down beside him.

Cracking one eye in her direction, Daryl warily eyeballed the leggy brunette for a half of a second and muttered, “Don’t need none of your services, sweetheart. Best you find your way to some other lap.”

“Do you mind if I just sit here for a little bit?” Heather asked quietly, letting her hand rest gently on Daryl’s leg as she leaned a bit closer to talk to him. Shyly, she explained, “I need a breather, you know? I usually sit with Micah when I need a break, it's just he seems a little, um...off tonight. One too many drinks maybe? Anyway, it’d be nice if I could just sit here for a minute and not have to explain it to Gage. If that’s okay with you?”

“Thought ya’ll was here because you wanted to be? They tell me wrong?” Daryl asked curiously. Interest peaked, he straightened in his seat and turned his full attention to the young woman beside him. Nervous hands fidgeted in her lap and led him to believe that maybe the song and dance he was fed upon arrival wasn’t exactly the truth.

“I am. We are, I promise.” Heather cut a glance towards Gage and Cindy, who looked to be on the verge of returning to whatever bedroom they had slunk off to shortly after Gage had directed Daryl towards the liquor table. Turning her wide brown stare back to Daryl, she continued, “It’s just he sometimes doesn’t like it if we don’t make sure the guys have a good time. And, sometimes I just don’t like some of the guys here, is all. To be honest, you're the only one here besides Micah that doesn't paw at us, so I thought maybe it would be safe to hang out here with you for a bit? Make it look like I’m at least trying to show you a good time?”

Daryl looked towards Gage and caught the man’s inquisitive eye, instantly seeing the truth in the young woman’s words glaring back at him from an icy stare. While he had no intention of taking the woman up on what she would undoubtedly end up offering before the night’s end, Daryl didn’t to be the one that got her in trouble with the boss either. Hell, he was in this damned place to figure out a way to rescue women like her, not risk getting them in a worse situation than they were already in. So, instead of doing what he really wanted to do and tell her to find another pansy to pester, Daryl found himself nodding his head in agreement to her proposal.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Daryl agreed, albeit with a scowl of displeasure. He lifted the glass in his hand to his mouth and tipped it back, his scowl deepening when he realized he had forgotten it was empty. Daryl muttered a curse and glanced at the woman beside him. “What’d you say your name was?”

“I didn’t. It’s Heather,” she replied with what could only be described as a grateful smile. “You’re Daryl, right? Heard some of the others talking about you earlier.”

“You want a drink?” Daryl pushed to the edge of the settee with his destination set for the liquor table. If he was going to be suckered in to playing nice with the pretty lady, he might as well be drunk as shit, too. Of course, with as little as he had drank over the years, he was more than on his way to being shitface wasted as it was. One more drink and he would very likely fall over face first in the bushes behind them and stay there the rest of the night.

“I’ll get it!” Heather offered enthusiastically, grabbing the cup from his hand before he could object. “I’m supposed to do that stuff anyway, right? If we’re going to play pretend for a little bit, I need to stay in character as much as I can. I’ll be right back.”

As she teetered towards the table of booze on ridiculous high heels, the brick patio doing nothing to assist her in walking correctly, Daryl caught Gage’s eye once more and noted the disgustingly pleased twinkle in the dark depths. Doing his best to keep an impassive expression on his face, Daryl simply nodded in response to the raised glass salute the man offered him in when Heather returning with his refilled drink in her hand and cuddling up next to him on the couch, entirely too close for his comfort, but likely not close enough for the charade they were partaking in.

Chugging down a large gulp of the potent contents of his cup, he halfway paid attention to Heather’s nonstop rambling about everything and yet, nothing at all of importance. During their one sided conversation, one of her hands had slithered around his arm and she was now leaning against him as she traced a random pattern on the back of his hand, which had somehow found its way to her bare thigh. He couldn’t recall moving his hand to lay just above her knee, in what was really an innocent location, but it was as close to a woman as he had been in a very long time.

A pang of loneliness struck him directly in the heart, piercing his chest with a searing pain that only reared its ugly head when he allowed himself to acknowledge just how much he missed human contact. Cutting a glance past the swatch of bangs dangling in his eyes, Daryl took in the attractiveness of the young woman beside him and wondered for just one second how it would feel to give in to what she was silently offering to him at the moment. No one could blame him, really. It had been a long time since he had taken a woman to bed, really and truly doing more than crawling beneath the sheets and sleeping.

In fact, while his memory of the last time he’d had sex was blurred by the alcohol that night, Daryl could muster up the image of the curvy blonde he had fucked in the bathroom of the bar he and Merle had frequented often. It hadn’t been the first time he had screwed a woman in a bar bathroom, it hadn’t even been the first time he had fucked that particular one in a bar bathroom, but it had most certainly been the last, as the end of the world came tumbling down on them shortly after that night. Since then, the only contact he’d had with a woman was the little bit that Lily had offered to him in the short time they had been together.

Needless to say, even the strongest person would feel their well-built walls start to crumble after a solid six or seven years without sex. And, as much as he hated to admit it to himself, Daryl was starting to crumble. But, as his hand slowly inched ever so slightly up Heather’s thigh, a burst of much needed clarity hit him square in the face and sobered him up just enough to try to move his hand from her leg altogether. Unfortunately, Heather had her hand on top of his and pressed his back against her leg, effectively trapping his hand there, unless he wanted to snatch it back and make a scene. Opting against catching Gage’s attention, Daryl relaxed and let his hand settle back gently against the softness of Heather’s thigh, but held firm in his resolve to not let things progress any further than what they already were. Unfortunately for him, that was the exact moment that the infuriating bur in his side, otherwise known as Mia Carter, stepped through the back door and locked gazes with him, her hazel eyes shimmering a near gold in the flickering light from the fire, the disappointment in them more than evident in the low light of the evening.

Muttering a curse, Daryl straightened his posture and took his hand away from Heather's thigh, although the damage had already been done. In the back of his liquor hazed mind, he wondered why he even cared what Mia thought of him, but at that moment he wasn't thinking clearly enough to not react to the disappointment in her eyes. Thankfully, she tore her gaze from his as she stepped down on to the bricked porch, heading towards Gage, who all but chucked Cindy from his lap when he realized Mia was there.

Curiosity peaked at Gage's behavior, Daryl wondered if Gage's threat towards him over the bruises on Mia's neck were more because he had feelings for the infuriating woman and less because he had injured one of the members of his group. More power to the man, really, if his intentions were because he was infatuated with Mia, because from what Daryl could tell the woman was nothing but a headache.

As the moment of Mia's surprise appearance passed for Daryl, he polished off the last of the whiskey from his glass and shook off Heather's offering to get him a refill. He was more than well-oiled for the night and way past a raging hangover the next morning. Leaning back once more, he settled against the bare wicker as comfortably as possible and allowed Heather to fiddle with his hair, trace her fingers over the backs of his hands and whisper random ass shit into his ears, while he let his mind imagine that the woman at his side was actually the woman in his heart.

The mind could do wonderful things in the imagination department, especially when alcohol was a factor in the dream. So much so, that by the time he wandered out of his fantasy world, the group had already begun to disperse, leaving only a handful of people in the backyard. Waving off Heather and the silent offering her eyes were sending him, Daryl stood up awkwardly and made his way towards the backdoor, to where Gage was standing with Micah.

“Guess it's back to purgatory for me?” Daryl asked, slurring and stumbling over the words that his numb tongue refused to form.

“No, Mia already offered to take you back for me. That's why she stopped by,” Gage explained, quirking an oddly knowing smile towards Micah, who only scowled in response. “Told her there was no need, I got your assignments figured out.”

Questions popped into Daryl's mind, but the words refused to exit his mouth. Instead he stood there, swaying ever so slightly, and stared at the two men in front of him. He was about half a second away from face planting at their feet and had to lean to the left to put his palm against the brick wall before doing so. Finally, he put two words together and slurred them out to Gage. “Yeah? What?”

“You'll be going home with Micah.” Gage paused for effect that he didn't receive, unless the deepening scowl on Micah's face was what he was after. The lack of reaction didn't hinder the gleeful glimmer in his eyes though, because what followed damned near knocked Daryl to the ground, although that wouldn't take much effort in the state he was currently in.

“You're gonna watch Mia for me,” Gage smiled triumphantly when Daryl cursed violently and grimaced, obviously enough of a reaction to make the man happy. He paused long enough for Daryl to curse once more and then explained, “You see, you're the only one that doesn't look at her like you want to fuck her, Daryl. Well, you and Micah, of course. Figured I need to use that to my advantage. She's been sneaking out, all hours of the day and night, and I can't keep her safe when she's outside these walls. So, you stay with her, in the house with her, all the time. This way I know she's safe and, I know you ain't fucking her. Win-win situation all around.”

Gage's expression turned serious as he reached out to hold on to Daryl's bicep, partly to keep him upright, but mostly to tighten the hold to show Daryl just how serious he was. “You fuck up, you get her hurt or worse. It's your head.”

Well, fuck. This night had not gone as Daryl had planned. Not one tiny bit. Out of prison and straight into the God damned frying pan.


	18. Chapter 18

_"As much as it hurts,  
Ain’t it wonderful to feel?  
So go on and break your wings  
Follow your heart ‘til it bleeds  
As we run towards the end of the dream."_

__

Evanescence “End of the Dream”

Morning was in full bloom by the time Mia woke up, stretching languidly like a cat before reality sank in and she jumped up from the bed like it was on fire. Dashing towards the closed bedroom door, she yanked it open and crossed the hallway between her bedroom and Micah’s in two long steps. Worried about her brother since she had fallen asleep before he had returned home and he had not woken her up at all, not to let her know he was home or from pain, Mia knew her nerves would not calm down until she laid eyes on him.

Cracking the door ever so slightly, she peeked into the bedroom and sighed with relief at the sight of Micah sprawled across the disheveled bed, snoring softly. Satisfied that he was home safe and sound, at least for the moment, Mia closed the door as silently as she had opened it and headed downstairs to find something to eat for breakfast. Softly, she padded down the wooden stairs in her bare feet towards the kitchen without as much as a glance towards the living room, to where unbeknownst to her, a new house guest was passed out on the couch.

In the kitchen, Mia grabbed an apple and tore off a hunk of bread, instead of making anything more complicated for breakfast. While she would rather have eggs or something a bit more complicated for breakfast, she wasn’t in the mood to deal with making a fire outside to cook anything. While she had gotten the first restful night of sleep in a long time, the thought of going through the trouble of making a legit meal was unappealing, especially since the guys were still asleep and it was just for herself.

Her stomach was growling quite loudly though, having skipped dinner the night before due to deal with the emergency Mae had sent Lucy in search of her for. After dealing with a worried Mae and tearful, yet defiant teenager for longer than she had wanted to, Mia decided to take a break from the situation to gather her thoughts and figure out the best course of action. After stopping by Gage’s for only a handful of minutes to assess how things were going there, she had hurried home, stripped off her clothes the moment she had walked into her bedroom and collapsed onto the bed, utterly exhausted.

Now, at the mere thought of what she had to deal with that day, dread pooled in the pit of Mia’s stomach at the nightmare that had been brought to her attention after she had left Daryl in Blake’s hands to deliver to Gage’s house, and even after a good night’s sleep, Mia still had no clue how she was going to handle the issue. So, instead of setting out to fix the problem bright and early, she opted to momentarily pretend it didn’t exist and escape into the living room to eat and maybe do a little reading.

Meal in hand, she exited the kitchen and headed into the semi-darkened living room and tripped over a pair of boots tossed haphazardly just inside the entryway. She stumbled around for a moment, before finding her balance, but not before letting out a litany of profanity loud enough to wake up those that were asleep upstairs. Freezing, as though by doing so would ensure her cursing had not woken up Micah or Blake, she had barely taken another step forwards when someone growled at her angrily from the couch. Startled by the sound, the scream that she let loose after was no doubt loud enough to wake the rest of the house, and likely the people in the house next door.

“You gotta be so damned loud? Some of us are trying to sleep,” an annoyed, sleep roughened voice growled at her from across the room, which was still slightly darkened thanks to the curtains being pulled nearly shut.

Afterwards, when her brain had time to process how stupid her reaction to the intrusion was, Mia would be ashamed at her less than stellar response to the unexpected voice. But, at that moment in time, all she could muster up besides the shriek of surprise was to toss the apple in her hand directly towards the person on her couch. Because an apple was obviously the best choice in weapon, right? Right?!

Squinting, she peered through the dimly lit room towards the figure on the couch and mentally tried to coax her heart into slowing down before she had an attack from shock. However, that shock instantly turned to an all-encompassing rage when she realized exactly who it was sprawled across the pale blue couch with a severely outdated flower pattern, even before the outbreak.

When her brain realized who exactly it was her eyes were seeing, Mia tossed the piece of bread in her other hand onto a nearby table and stormed across the room with fire in her veins. “Oh, fuck no! What in the hell are you doing on this couch?”

Growling at Daryl’s response, one lone snort of laughter as though the situation they were in was actually amusing, Mia charged back towards the doorway and leaned over to snatch what was undoubtedly his boots that caused her to trip and turned back to where the infuriating pest was still laying down. Enraged at the mere sight of him, Mia reared back and hurled one boot as hard as she could towards him and managed to hit him in the chest, before snarling out her question once more, “I asked you, what in the hell are you doing here?”

“Shit, woman,” Daryl finally replied, the tone of his voice equally as angry as Mia’s, as he pushed the boot off of his chest and onto the floor. “Quit your squawking before you wake up the whole damn neighborhood.”

Cursing under her breath, Mia hated that Daryl was right and hoped she hadn’t already woken Micah and Blake up with her screeching, but damn if the sight of him didn’t just enrage the holy hell out of her…much less the sight of him sleeping on her couch like he belonged there. This was her home, her sanctum, and had been for around four years and damn it, she did not want him violating her space. Narrowing her eyes, Mia reared back once more and chucked the other boot at Daryl, zeroing in on the one spot that was guaranteed to get a man to move. Gleeful, she smiled when he howled in pain when the thick sole of the boot connected with his groin, before he curled in on himself to protect that area from further attack.

“What on God’s green earth is going on down here?” Micah’s annoyed voice cut through Daryl’s groans of agony and dampened Mia’s fleeting moment of happiness at Daryl’s discomfort. Mia glanced over her shoulder to where her brother was bounding down the stairs with Blake hot on his heels, both of their hair mussed and their clothes disheveled from sleep. Micah stomped into the living room and glared at Mia, before cursing and wincing when he realized what was causing the commotion. “Shit, I…uh,”

Mia cut her brother off and butted in with an emphatic gesture towards the couch, where Daryl was struggling to sit upright despite the pain in his crotch. “Please tell me you did not bring him here.”

“I did,” Micah winced once more, no doubt from the anger radiating from her eye’s at him, and quickly explained who was really to blame for Daryl’s presence, no doubt eager to get the bull’s eye of her anger off of his chest. “It was Gage’s idea, Mi, I swear. He came up with it last night after you left his house. Something about how Daryl doesn’t want to get into your pants, so he can trust him to keep you safe? You know how Gage gets, his harebrained ideas and shit. He shoved Daryl at me and sent us home, wouldn’t even bother to listen to my thoughts it.”

“Him? Here? With us…with me?” Mia shook her head and wrinkled her nose in distaste at the thought of living with Daryl. Glancing over her shoulder towards the man in question, she narrowed her eyes at the sight of him shoving his feet into the boots she had so generously thrown at him and said, “No. Absolutely not. I won’t have it.”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Daryl sneered as he stood up and rocked his head from side to side, no doubt trying to work out the kinks in his next from sleeping on the couch. “He’s telling the truth. You’re stuck with me. Ain’t exactly on my list of places to sleep neither.”

“Oh, screw this. No way do I trust this guy to let him sleep under the roof with us. No way in hell!” Mia fought the urge to stomp her foot in frustration, but did let loose another string of profanities when Daryl nonchalantly took a bite out of the apple she had planned on having for breakfast, before she had used it as a weapon on him. Huffing loudly, she snarled at him, “Be ready to go when I get back. We’re going to get this shit straightened out with your buddy, Gage. He wants you to stick around this place? Fine. But it sure as hell won’t be as my prison guard.”

Whipping around towards the stairs, the fire in her blood boiled as hot as it had been in eons and she was fully prepared to tear into brother for not doing something to make Gage change his mind, for not standing up to their childhood friend turned bully, when she saw a trickle of blood inching its way out of Micah’s left nostril.

Her fury faded, the flames of her anger dampened by the sight of her brother’s mystery illness making itself known, and she quickly closed the gap between them. Micah took a step away from her, obviously thinking her approach was because she was going to smack him for letting Daryl into the house, but paused and raised his hand to touch the blood on his upper lip.

Mia reached for her brother and softened her voice as she spoke to him. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up and back to bed, okay?”

As Micah pressed the hem of his shirt to his nose, Mia ushered him towards the stairs, but paused long enough to glance over her shoulder to where Daryl was eyeballing them curiously. “When I get back we’re going to see Gage. Don’t go anywhere.”

She fully expected him to reply with a sarcastic remark about him being the one that was in charge of keeping up with her now, not like it had been for the past few days, but he didn’t. Instead, he stood there with the half eaten apple in one hand and an unnerving look of compassion in his bluer than blue eyes. At the sight, Mia realized that the sarcastic remarks were something she could deal with, the look of understanding, and the glimmer of sympathy in his gaze, was not.


	19. Chapter 19

_"Make the best of it  
Fuck it, what are you waiting for?  
Another day, a double shot of hate  
It's everything we know  
Drink it up like gasoline  
Fuck it, make the best of it."_

__

Motionless In White "Loud (Fuck It)"

Daryl stood awkwardly in the living room as Mia slowly climbed the stairs behind Micah, the apple in his hand half-eaten and all but forgotten after witnessing the scene that had just unfolded in front of him. Just across from him, standing equally as awkward by the archway of the living room and landing to the stairs, was the scrawny redheaded companion to what could only be described as the burr in his backside, Mia.

Ginger locks sprouted in various directions on top of his head, appearing as though the young man had either vigorously scrubbed his hands through his hair before descending the stairs, or he had slept with his head firmly placed beneath his pillow for the majority of the night. Sleep creased his pale skin around his eyes and in one long wrinkle across his high forehead, and drew attention to the fact that Blake was older than what Daryl had originally pegged him to be, no doubt closer to thirty than twenty. Foggy green eyes glared at Daryl, as Daryl did the same to the man they belonged to, each of them studying the man they had been left alone with.

“What's up with him?” Daryl asked after a period of silence that was far longer than what was considered polite, finally breaking the ice since it seemed that Blake wasn't going to accept that challenge. He lifted the apple to his lips and took a bite, non-nonchalant in his actions, as though he wasn't genuinely interested in the answer. What little time he had spent with Micah Carter the night before hadn't been the worst experience in his life. The guy seemed to be fairly decent, a little odd, but then again, who in this world wasn't in Daryl's opinion?

Blake narrowed his eyes, no doubt wondering what the motivation behind Daryl's question was, and finally said, “Don't know. He's been sick for a while.”

“Ain't contagious then? If it was, you'd all have it, right?” Daryl pointed out around a mouthful of chewed apple. “That woman can't fix it? The one that stitched me up?”

“Mae was a nurse before the outbreak, not a magician,” Blake replied sarcastically, all but rolling his eyes at the absurdity of Daryl's questions. “I should go check on them, make sure Micah doesn't need anything. You're...uh, gonna wait here, right? Like Mia said?”

“I ain't going nowhere, but it ain't ‘cause she told me not to,” Daryl replied sourly, holding back the snarl that was on the tip of his tongue. The notion of staying put like a good little dog, all because that bitch upstairs told him to wait for her like he was a family pet, was nothing if not infuriating. But, if he wanted to get the lay of the land and figure out how the community worked, the best thing for him to do was to follow Gage's command and stick to Mia like an insect on a strip of fly paper. By doing so, he would hopefully figure out exactly how and when he could whisk Lucy, and maybe one or two other girls if it was possible, out under the cover of darkness.

As Blake scuttled up the stairs like his ass was on fire, Daryl flipped the gnawed on apple core around in his hand and wandered over to the back door to toss it outside. Opening the locked blue painted door, he poked his head out to find a screened in sun-porch, complete with ancient daybed and mismatched lounge chairs with a scattering of potted plants and more than one pile of books laying around. He stepped out on to the patio and crossed it in a handful of steps to push open the screen door, the rusted coil screeched as he pushed it open to toss the apple out into the yard.

He had barely stepped back into the house when Mia bounded down the stairs, outfitted in the same thin gray tank top she'd had on when she woke him up, the one that let him see a bit more than she probably intended before she had added a bra beneath it, a pair of painted on jeans with holes in the knees and camouflage hiking boots. It wasn't far off from what the women at the lodge wore, which had never stirred any sort of reaction from him, but for some reason he chose to ignore, his eyes were more than happy to wander over Mia's lithe body that the form fitting clothes hugged like a second skin.

Chalking up the unexpected reaction to residual feelings of loneliness that had been provoked by Heather's flirtations the night before, Daryl shoved them aside and told his mind to just forget all about the thoughts that had just ran through it. Not only was he here strictly as a favor to Mary, but he would be damned if he would ever let himself become involved with someone as infuriating, self-righteous and bitchy, as Mia Carter. It just wasn't going to happen, not if he had any say so in it. Hell no.

“What are you doing?” Mia barked at him, narrowing her eyes accusingly at him like he was doing anything wrong. Hell, he had barely stepped foot outside, it wasn't like he'd set fire to half the damned house.

“I ain't doing shit,” Daryl ground out in response. Just the sound of her voice, the accusatory, bitchy tone, proved just how right he was about her and he had to keep the smug expression from forming on his face. “Calm your jets, woman. I just tossed my apple out back.”

“My apple, more like,” Mia bit back with a frown, as she raised her arms to pull her honey colored locks into a messy ponytail. “For future reference, we compost around here. Don't throw out your food trash, we put it aside and someone will come by to pick up the bucket.” She pointed at the five-gallon bucket shoved beneath the kitchen counter, beside a small white trash bin. “Not that you'll need to know where our bucket is, because I plan on having you out of my hair shortly.”

“God willing,” Daryl replied with the same amount of enthusiasm Mia had in her voice. “Don't want to be here no more than you want me here.”

“Good, because I don't trust you. And, if I don't trust you, I don't want you in my house. Hell, I don't want you anywhere near my house actually.” Hands on her hips, hips that he hated to admit had the perfect amount of flair to them in comparison to her waist,  
Mia's lip curled in disgust as she eyeballed him with all the warmth of someone giving a dead rodent a once over. “I should have just shot you and been done with it.”

“Yeah, you probably should have. What? You ain't got the balls to do it now?” Daryl's voice lowered as he prowled towards her menacingly. He needed to be here, in this compound, so he could fulfill his promise to Mary and rescue her baby sister, but he'd be damned if he was going to let some hoity-toity bitch talk to him like she was better than he was, didn't matter if she actually was, he just wasn't going to let her get away with it. “Go on and do it. You think you're big and bad? Go on and try it.”

“Don't think I won't, asshole! I don't give a hot damn if you're Gage's new best buddy. I don't trust you. I don't like you. Hell, I can't even stand to look at you. My day would be a whole lot better if you weren't in it,” Mia shouted, her voice cracking as it raised an octave or three with each step she took towards him, until they were nearly chest to chest as they snarled at one another.

“Hey, hey! Guys, chill!” Blake demanded as he hurried down the stairs towards them. “Jesus, Micah's upstairs in pain, he needs to go to sleep and you two are down here caterwauling at one another.”

“Sorry, you're right. I...I just can't stand that he's here.” Mia raised her hands in defeat and stepped away from him until she was back in the living room and pacing like a wild animal. “I hate that Gage put him here, to keep me under lock and key like I'm some fucking prisoner in my own damned home. I hate Gage! And...and, I hate this guy! This damned stranger that's been shoved into my life to make sure I do and say and act the way Gage wants me to. I hate it, Blake. I fucking hate it. And, I fucking don't trust this guy. Not one damned ounce. You know what he's capable of, right? We aren't safe in this house while he's under the same roof. We close our eyes for half a second and this slimy mother fucker can just slither in and stick a knife in our heads, just like he's done before.”

“If I wanted you dead I'd have done it while you was asleep last night,” Daryl pointed out, stating the obvious at undoubtedly the wrong damned time, because Mia's back straightened like a rod as she fisted her hands at her sides and growled at him in a full outrage.

“Okay, seriously, you need to calm down, Mia.” Blake slipped past Daryl and ushered Mia towards the front door, all the while shooting worried glances back towards Daryl over his shoulder.

Judging by the look in Blake's green eyes, Daryl would think that what the redhead was witnessing with his friend, Mia, was unheard of, a complete shock. But surely it wasn't, not with the level of full on wackadoodle the woman had going on at the moment, right? One glance out the glass pane in the front door showed Mia stomping up and down the sidewalk, flailing her hands emphatically while she cursed loud enough for Daryl to hear her inside the house, screeching about the dangers of allowing someone as sick and twisted as he was inside their house.

Yeah, no. That woman was full on, bat-shit crazy in Daryl's eyes. There was no question about that. If she thought he was dangerous, then what the hell did she consider herself? She was living inside a compound that traded kids for supplies to do God knows with them, herding children to be slaves or worse, and she thought he was the dangerous one? Negative. He rescued people, saved the helpless from a life of misery and took out the demons that enslaved them, ridding the world of a sick parasite. He was a damned hero, whether he really wanted to believe that or not.

Mia was the sick one, the one that shouldn't be trusted. Right up there with the man she claimed to hate, but had yet to do anything about. Surely someone as close to Gage as Mia was could have taken out the man at some point? He had to sleep at night just like the rest of the world, especially since Daryl seriously doubted the man pulled guard duty. If she was as holier than thou as she obviously thought she was, then why the hell hadn't she done something about the man that she was currently ranting and raving about on the front lawn?

In Daryl's opinion, she was either delusional or hypocritical. And, with everything he had witnessed in his life, especially during the time he had spent on his own, going from encampment to encampment taking out sick perverts, his money was on hypocritical. It was the more likely explanation anyway.

Standing in the foyer, one hand on the doorknob, he watched as Mia screeched and kicked at invisible objects in the yard and decided that while she was obviously a hypocrite, he was also fairly certain she had at least a touch of the crazy. There was no doubt about it, that woman wasn't exactly hinged correctly in the mental compartment. But, damned if that didn't just make her seem just a little bit more attractive to him for some reason.

Daryl had never understood his brother's obsession with the crazy ones, but damned if Merle Dixon hadn't had a penchant for finding the most unstable woman at a bar. The one's where you never quite knew if they were going to set your motorcycle on fire for looking at another woman, or screw your brains out in the bathroom stall. Personally, Daryl had always found those women to be far too high maintenance for what he wanted to do with them. But, for reasons that he couldn't explain and didn't want to really delve in to, standing there watching Mia Carter have an emotional come apart was not the most unappealing thing he had ever witnessed.

Realizing what he was thinking about, Daryl let the half-cocked grin on his face slip into a curl of disgust as he snatched open the door and marched outside. He didn't like the woman, didn't want to be anywhere near her and he'd be damned if he was going to let anything or anyone get in the way of his mission. No matter how attractive she was when she was angry…

It was time to get the show on the road and start figuring out how exactly he was going to get Lucy the hell out of this place. And, if and when the time came and it was Mia that was standing in the way of completing the promise he had made to that young girl back at the lodge? Then he would kill her just the way he had killed every other person that had stood in his way.

Mia was nothing to him and if she could work her feminine wiles and get Gage to reassign him to another house? Even fucking better. Things would go a lot more smoothly for him if he didn't have to deal with her overly emotional, bitchy attitude.

“You about done out here?” Daryl growled as he stalked towards the white picket fence Mia and Blake were standing near. “Faster I can get away from your crazy ass the better.”

“Glad we're on the same page then,” Mia retorted snidely.

“Yeah, it'll be the only damned thing we agree on.” Daryl averted his gaze when she subtly swiped a hand across her eyes, wiping away the shimmer of tears that he refused to pay attention to. He had a weakness for women when they cried and he couldn't allow himself to be weak around these people, especially around her.

Storming out the front gate without bothering to see if she was following, Daryl marched in what he vaguely recalled as the direction of Gage's house. He was ready to get this show on the road and hopefully get rid of the woman following behind him, the literal burr in his backside.


	20. Chapter 20

_"I keep myself alive just to die more  
Every day."_

__

Motionless In White "Scissorhands" 

After an agonizingly silent walk down the street, they finally approached the pathway for Gage's house. Brushing past Daryl, Mia strode up the cement walkway towards Gage's house with nerves so frazzled she was fairly certain the butterflies in her stomach had morphed into pterodactyls during the short walk. Clenching her fists tightly at her sides, she attempted to will away the mounting anxiety by squeezing the tips of her short nails into the palm of her hand, but failed miserably.

She wanted nothing more than to rewind the morning all the way back to when she was happily sprawled out on her bed, snoozing peacefully. Hell, if she had the ability to rewind, she wouldn't stop at this morning, but would dial back time all the way back to before the damned world had fallen apart. Not that doing so would have saved humanity from the brink of extinction, but it would be nice to be able to go back and appreciate one more morning in her husband's arms.

Standing on the front stoop, Mia glanced over her shoulder to see where her newly appointed shadow was lurking and found Daryl obnoxiously close behind her. “I doubt Gage needs you to spy on me when I'm in his house. Go lurk somewhere else.”

Mia narrowed her eyes when Daryl did as she requested and headed towards one of the guard's empty chairs near the front of the pathway and flopped down on the dented metal seat unceremoniously. She honestly didn't know what was more annoying at that moment in time, the fact that he did as she told him to, or that he did so without arguing with her. Mostly, it was just that she was in a foul mood and it wouldn't matter what Daryl did, because anything that he did was going to annoy her.

Cursing beneath her breath, Mia raised her hand to bang on the door and let out a squeak of surprise when it opened before her knuckles made contact with the wood. Face to face with Gage, she turned all of her annoyance towards the presence of Daryl Dixon to the man in front of her. Pushing past him, she stepped into the house and found two of the three concubines that lived with Gage sprawled across the couch. Pointing at them, she ordered, “Out. Gage and I have to talk in private.”

Thankfully, the women were used to being ordered about, but typically not by Mia. However, they obliged in her orders, albeit all the while taking their sweet and precious time, as well as both shooting death glares at Mia as they headed upstairs. Once they were out of the living room, Mia whipped around to find Gage leaning against the doorway with an amused expression on his handsome face.

“You could have asked nicely. They'd have left without you being a bitch to them,” Gage pointed out with an amused smirk.

“I don't have the time or the desire to play nicey-nice with your whore's today, Gage,” Mia bit out with a snarl. Without bothering to give him a chance to say anything in response, she growled and asked, “Just who the hell do you think you are? Sending a stranger into my house to guard me? The hell is that about?”

“I said you wouldn't like what I'd do if you kept sneaking around,” Gage shrugged his shoulders and pushed away from the doorway to walk towards Mia, stopping just short of where she stood, seething in anger, to sprawl across the couch his women had just vacated.

“I haven't gone anywhere since you gave me that warning!” Mia argued, her voice raising slightly with each word.

“So I changed my mind. So what? You'd have snuck off eventually, we both know it. This way I know when and where you slip off to, because he's going to be on you twenty-four seven.” Gage propped up one foot onto the coffee table, the heavy black sole of his boot clunking heavily against the wood, and inspected a tiny hole that was forming in his blue jeans. When he spoke again, the smile that accompanied the words sent a chill down Mia's spine. “And, when he fuck's up and loses you, or lets you get hurt, at least I won't have to kill a part of our group.”

“So, you just wanted a stranger to watch me so you don't have to kill someone you know if he screws up? That's almost as fucked up as the reason Daryl said you sent him, that he didn't want to fuck me or some shit.” Mia shook her head in disappointment, hating to see what the Gage she grew up with had turning in to.

“Oh, that was part of the reason, Mia. He doesn't look at you like you're piece of ice on a hot day. In fact, the loathing in his eyes when he looks at you made him the perfect candidate. Hell, not even Jimmy looks at you with that much hate in his eyes, you must have really pissed him off when you were interrogating him.” Gage chuckled, put his foot down from the coffee table and stood up. “This way, I only have to kill him if he gets you hurt, not if he fucks you.”

“You're insane. Have I told you that lately?” Mia shook her head and threw up her hands in an emphatic gesture. Exasperated, she said, “He's not staying with me. Not in my house, not around town, not at all.”

“You don't want him in the house with you? Fine. He can sleep on the porch like the stray he is, Mia. But, mark my words, he is going to watch you for me. All day, every day, and not a damned thing you can say will change my mind.” Gage ground out his words, his dark eyes flashed angrily at her, before one corner of his mouth quirked up and he said, “Of course, there is one thing you could do to make me change my mind.”

“Ugh, get over yourself, Gage. I am not screwing you.” Mia rolled her eyes and frowned in disgust at Gage's offering. “I'm not one of your house whore's.”

“”No, you're more than that.” The softness in Gage's voice, the sudden change in his tone, made Mia blink in surprise, her hardened posture relaxing ever so slightly as a glimpse of her childhood friend showed himself. But, just as soon as the Gage she once loved peeked through, he was gone again. The cocky expression and amused smirk firmly in place once more, Gage continued, “Move in here with me. I'll kick the girls out, I don't care about them, Mia. Just you. It's always been you. Move in, I don't expect anything else. Live with me.”

Mia was honestly so shocked by what Gage was suggesting that she didn't notice he had slowly closed the gap between them until he was only a few short feet away. Before she could readjust her position, put some furniture between them or something to keep a barrier up against Gage, he was wrapping his hands around her upper arms and pulling her close against him. The hardness of his chest pushed against the softness of hers, the muscles she felt now a stark contrast to the scrawny teenager whom she had once danced with at prom. Had their circumstances been different, Mia could have easily seen herself falling into Gage's arms for comfort, but looks were only on the surface and that superficial quality had never been what Mia looked for in a man. Had Gage Winston retained his gangly frame and braces from high school, he would have had more of a chance with her now, because back then he had been one of the sweetest men she had ever known. His problem now was that he hadn't made a move on her back when she had actually found him attractive.

Now? All the muscles, height and staggering good looks couldn't save a man with a shitty personality. Not in Mia's book anyway. Now, Mia was on the verge of repulsion as she stared up into the chocolate gaze of her childhood friend, because staring back at her was an arrogant asshole who thought he could bully her into doing what he wanted her to.

Lifting her hands up as best as she could, Mia pressed them against his chest and tried to use the leverage to wriggle out of his hold. Unfortunately, there was little she could do with her petite frame to get out of his grasp, besides physical pain and she didn't want to go down that route unless it was absolutely necessary. “Gage, let me go, please?” She asked and hated to hear the pleading tone in her voice. “You're hurting my arms.”

“I'm sorry.” He said as he loosened his hold on her arms, not letting go as she asked, but at least he wasn't crushing them with his strength anymore.

His curly locks spilled forward over his shoulder as he looked down at her, dark and thick, luscious in a way that they hadn't been when he was younger, back when he had kept his hair cut painfully short in an attempt to lessen the curl. Mia drew her attention from his hair back up to his eyes in time to see his mouth descend on hers, pressing tightly against her unwilling lips as though it had every right in the world to be there. Muttering her objections against the unwanted kiss, her muffled words fell upon deaf ears as Gage deepened the kiss and tightened his hold on her arms once more.

She struggled against Gage, managing to pull her lips away from Gage's at the same time she twisted and jerked her knee upwards to ram solidly against his balls. His hold on her arms disappeared, his arms dropping down so he could cup his damaged privates in his hands, as he stumbled away from Mia with a litany of curse words spewing from his mouth.

“Don't you ever do that again! Do you hear me?” Mia ground out angrily as she swiped the back of her hand across her lips to get the taste of Gage off of them. Shaking her head, she looked at him with disappointment coloring her eyes and asked, “What happened to the Gage I used to know? Huh? Is he even in there anymore? Because he would never treat me the way you have lately.”

“Of course he wouldn't, Mia. That Gage had no fucking dick, he just followed you around like a goddamned puppy and you know what that got him? Not a fucking thing! That's what. That pathetic little shit got to take you to dances when no one else would go with you or watch you cry when you and Brian would fight.” Gage snarled at her in response, no longer bent over clutching his balls, but obviously still in pain if the expression on his face was any indication. “You walked your pretty ass all over that guy, Mia. You don't get to do that anymore. Either move in here with me, be with me, or get used to having that fucker outside shadow your every move. There's no other option.”

“I thought we were friends back then, Gage. Everything you did for me back then was what I thought friends did for each other, I guess I was wrong.” Mia pointed out with sadness in her voice, as she slowly inched her way towards the front door. “But, I guess we weren't friends like I thought we were.”

“I wanted more than that. Still do.” Gage took a step towards her, but stopped when he got a good damned look at the expression on her face. “It can be different, Mia. I can be what you need.”

“You obviously don't have any fucking clue what a friend actually is and for that, I feel sorry for you.” Mia took a shaky breath and blinked away the tears in her eyes, focusing on the anger seething inside to get her through that moment, instead of focusing on the sadness. “You know what, Gage? There will never be anything between us, because the man you've become isn't someone I find attractive. You're mean and I never thought that you, of all people, would become such a bully. Not after everything you went through in school. But, you did and that's just not a quality in a man that I find even remotely appealing.”

She tried her best, she really did, but the heartache that had been building up inside for years came spilling out and as the tears cascaded onto her cheeks, Mia let her guard down and Gage sensed the weakness and descended once more. Luckily, she wasn't completely blinded by the tears and side stepped his advance as he closed the distance.

“You don't get to touch me, Gage. You don't get to make me feel better anymore. You've lost that right, because we aren't friends anymore.” Mia choked on her own tears as her words caused her heart to realize exactly what was happening. A line was being drawn and for the first time since she was five years old, Gage was on the opposing team from her. She was officially losing one of the most important people in her life, and that thought put yet another crack in her fragile heart.

As she fled from the foyer, jerking open the front door to dart outside with tears falling from her eyes, Mia had to wonder just how many times her heart could get damaged before it would break altogether.


	21. Chapter 21

_"A boy of anguish, now he’s a man of soul_  
Traded in his misery for the lonely life of the road  
The years were cruel to him  
No, he won’t let them go  
Lays awake tryna’ find the man inside  
To pack his bags and escape this world." 

__

Asking Alexandria "Moving On" 

Left alone at the edge of the front yard, Daryl leaned against the fencing and stared at Gage's house and curiously watched through one of the large windows and watched the scene unfold between Mia and Gage. He couldn't make out what was being said, only the occasional shriek that was muffled by the doors and windows that had yet to be opened that morning.

He was under no delusions that he was completely alone, years of honing his senses let him know that there was more than one person watching him at the moment. Casually, he surveyed his surroundings like the new man in town that he was, but used the cover his shaggy bangs provided to scan the windows and trees of the houses that surrounded him. Locating one man tucked away in a deer stand high up in the oak tree next door, another in the shadows of the houses on the other side of Gage's house and a pair of curious eyes staring at him from the house behind him, Daryl added the locations to his mental note of the compound before turning his attentions back to the house in front of him.

Barely a minute later, a shadow fell onto the ground beside him and he glanced over his shoulder to find Heather standing beside him. In the light of day, and with a pair of alcohol-free eyeballs, she was older than he originally thought, but not by much. Probably closer to thirty than twenty, an attractive woman either way. Dressed for the heat, which was already bordering on miserable even though it was still fairly early, the cut off blue jean shorts and figure hugging tank top left little to the imagination. Tentatively, as if she was deciding if she should approach him, Heather pushed open the gate and stepped inside the yard to lean on the railing next to him.

“Didn't figure I'd see you up this early,” she said with a soft smile as she brushed a stray lock of hair back behind her ear. “Where'd you run off to last night? By the time I got back downstairs you'd left already.”

“Gage sent me back with Micah,” Daryl replied, feeling slightly shitty for disappearing without waiting for her to return from whatever bedroom she'd been made to retreat to in order to entertain one of the men at the party the night before. He had tried his best to keep her by his side and away from the pawing, groping hands of the handful of horny men at the gathering, but Gage had put his foot down when one of the higher ranking guards complained that she wasn't doing her job, forcing Heather upstairs to do God knows what while he sat by silently downstairs. “Sorry 'bout last night.”

“What? Oh, for Jimmy wanting a turn? Hell, there's no need to be sorry for that, hun. He can be an ass and ain't much to look at, but he's a regular and pretty tame.” Heather shook off the apology with a smile and, Daryl could tell that she was trying her best at reassuring him that what she'd had to do the night before hadn't fazed her.

Maybe it didn't? Maybe he was just reading more in to it, because of the horror he knew that Lily had been forced to live through? Since hearing about Lily's nightmare's, Daryl's world view on men and women in the world these day's was quite skewed. In every man in charge, he saw a woman that was being victimized, with the exception of Mia, in his eye's she was just as evil as the men he had put down to rescue the women in their clutches.

“So, you're staying with Micah and them? Bet Mia was pissed about that, right? She doesn't like anyone barging into their house.” Heather's voice cut through Daryl's thoughts and he focused his attention back on her as she continued, “Is that why she's in there yelling this morning? I mean, she yells at him all the time, but she seems a little more, uh...angry this time.”

“Yeah,” Daryl answered and added, shrugging a shoulder nonchalantly like he wasn't annoyed at the situation he had been thrown into, “Least she ain't yelling at me no more. Bitched at me all damned morning 'bout me being in her house.”

“Mia's actually quite nice, you know? She's just upset with Gage right now,” Heather replied in Mia's defense, picking up on his dislike of the woman in question. “Give her the benefit of the doubt. She does a lot of good around here.”

“You part of her fan club, too?” Daryl shook his head and cut his eyes towards Heather, not buying anything the woman was trying to sell him in regards to Mia Carter. “What? You two friends or something? Braid each other’s hair and shit?”

“No,” Heather rolled her eyes at the absurdity of his comment. “We aren't friends, but that doesn't mean I can't think she's a nice person.”

“What, Miss High and Mighty don't want to go slumming with the help or something?” Daryl asked, even though that was exactly what the issue was in his head. In just the short time he had been around Mia, he had felt her stare down her nose at him more than once and highly doubted that someone who thought she was perfect wouldn't be hanging out with a woman who all but sold herself for safety.

“Sure, Mia has some issues with what I choose to do around here, but it's not because she thinks she's better than me. I think she wants more for me, like she thinks maybe I sold myself short or something.” Heather shrugged one thin shoulder and sighed, “I think maybe she thinks higher of me than I do.”

Without commenting, Daryl turned his attention back to the large picture window in the front of the house to see what Mia and Gage were doing. There was no point in responding to Heather's musings about Mia, because his mind was already made up in regards to the woman in question and there was no way to reply without telling Heather that he thought she was being an idiot. Instead, he tilted his head ever so slightly to the left to see into the window better, since the couple inside had moved from their original spot and were now almost out of his line of sight.

“What are they arguing about this time? Do you know?” Heather asked curiously as she moved from his right side to his left so she could see better, absolutely showing no shame in wanting to spy on Gage and Mia. “I mean they fight all the damned time, but this one looks worse than the others.”

“Your boss stuck me with her. Guard duty or some shit,” Daryl replied as the sound of Mia's shouts disappeared. The scowl on his face deepened when he realized the reason why she had been silenced, but Daryl refused to pay any attention to the reason why his annoyance ratcheted up a few degrees at the sight of Gage kissing Mia.

“I cannot believe she's letting him do that. She's never let Gage really touch her, much less kiss her,” Heather said with disbelief coloring her words, a half a second before Gage doubled over in what looked like pain and Mia started yelling again. “Okay, I retract that statement, she's still not letting him kiss her. Oh man, he's going to be in such a bad mood now.”

“So, they really ain't together? Gage made it sound like they was more than friends last night,” Daryl asked curiously, glancing towards where Heather was perched on the fence railing now that Mia and Gage were totally out of his line of sight, having moved out of the living room.

“Oh, Lord no! Not that Gage ain't been trying for as long as I've been around here,” Heather replied, slipping off the railing to take a few steps towards the house and peek in the window. Frowning, obviously not able to see what was going on inside, she turned back to Daryl and continued, “You know, they've been friends since they were kids or something. Super long time. From what I've been able to put together, he's had a thing for her for years, but she ended up with one of their other friends, Mae's son, Brian.”

“Take it he ain't around no more? Her husband?” Daryl asked, wanting to get as much information out of Heather as he possibly could since Mia probably wasn't going to be very forthcoming, but was cut off by the sound of Gage screaming at Mia.

Turning his attention away from Heather, Daryl watched in silent amusement as Mia stomped out of the house and hurried down the sidewalk with a Gage following in her footsteps, his gait awkward as he was obviously still in pain from being kneed in the groin. Judging by the expression on her face, one that was severely more angry than the one she'd had on upon finding him in her house that morning, Mia's demands about having him relocated out of her house were not granted.

“Mia! Get your ass back here!” Gage shouted from the front porch, either in too much pain from having Mia's knee shoved in his balls to continue running after her or the man didn't want to be seen chasing after a woman who obviously didn't want anything to do with him. “We aren't done til I say we're done, damn it!”

Mia stopped in the middle of the walkway, back ramrod straight and jaw clenched angrily, and turned around to face the house. Raising one hand, she flipped her middle finger in Gage's direction and shouted in response, “Fuck off, Gage!” Whipping back around, she caught Daryl in her line of sight and saluted him with the same greeting, adding another colorful reply to him as well, before hightailing it out of the yard. “And, fuck you, too, asshole.”

Daryl struggled, but managed to keep the smirk on his face from growing in size, honesty amused at the scene that was unfolding before him, but one glance towards Gage had him wiping the grin off his face altogether.

“What the fuck are you waiting for? Go after her for fuck's sake!” Gage bellowed in his direction, rage coloring his face an unhealthy red and causing the vein in his forehead to protrude angrily. “She so much as tries to step a foot outside the fucking gates, you drag her ass back to me. Got it? Keep her ass in line or you're out of here.”

Knowing full well that disobeying Gage would mean he would either be booted out, beaten to a bloody pulp or killed, Daryl nodded once in Gage's direction and headed after Mia. He heard Heather's soft voice bidding him farewell, before Gage turned his attention to her and yelled at her to get her ass inside the house, so Daryl didn't bother to turn around to reply and instead offered up a slight flick of his hand in a wave as he took off after the angry woman stalking down the street.

For the millionth time, Daryl wished he hadn't stopped at that damned lake on his way to scout out the compound he was now stuck inside. Had he just continued on with his plan to lay low nearby until everyone was asleep and do what he had managed to do at every other location, he would be halfway back home with Lucy in tow by now. But, no, he had stopped for water and to clean up and look where the hell that had gotten him.

He'd landed directly inside the compound he had planned on breaking into and stuck laying babysitter for a raging asshole with a God complex and forced to spend his days with a raging bitch until he could figure out a way to complete his mission and safely escape with Lucy and anyone else he could possibly rescue without ending up dead.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone out there is actually reading this still, I want to apologize for double posting last week's chapter. All I can say is I am not sleeping well, so my brain is fuzzy. LOL My apologies. It's my birthday, so go easy on me. :) Hope you enjoy the real update.

_Can we live without death?_  
Can we love without hate?  
Can we want without need? 

Motionless In White “Creatures” 

Stomping down the middle of the street, Mia didn't bother to turn around to see if Daryl was following behind her. She could feel him back there, but couldn't hear him. The man moved like he was a damned ninja. In all her life, Mia had never been around anyone who could move as silently and with such purpose, until Daryl. She didn't know what he had been in his previous life that taught him to be so stealthily, but she was quite envious of the skill. It had to be a hell of a bonus in a world where the slightest sound could mean sudden death.

Of course, hordes of walking dead were rare nowadays, with most of the roaming corpses rotting away to literally nothing more than skeletons. Officially dead, where they should have been when their hearts had stopped beating, but a cruel world had condemned them to reanimated life for years after their death. No, the dead were the least of your worries these days. The living were the ones you had to deal with now. The cruel, heartless bastards who had been kept semi in control when law and order were still in place were now free to wreak as much havoc as they possibly could now.

Mia had heard nightmares about what some sick psychopaths were doing to the people who still clung to their morals or the weak. How some men were selling women for pleasure or keeping them in their basements for their own sick gratification. Men who kept whole compounds under their control with violence, stealing from others and taking their food and weapons, forcing others to dole out violence to keep others in control and even murdering the loved ones of groups who refused to submit. It was sickening what the world had succumbed to after the outbreak, truly and utterly sickening.

All in all, the life that Mia had landed in wasn't the worst outcome. They were relatively safe, had at least enough crops to keep them alive, drinking water and a bed to sleep in at night. Sure, Gage's control was tightening to a level that Mia wasn't on board with, but he still wasn't anywhere near as bad as some of the other men she had heard horror stories about from the few members of their group that went out scavenging. She didn't approve of the sex parties, but so far, the women that participated were at least there of their own volition. But, Mia had witnessed firsthand that there were men in Gage's club that had appetites that preferred younger flesh than what was provided as entertainment. Mia was worried about what was going to happen to the teenage girls they had rescued over the years, the ones who were currently assigned to menial tasks around the compound. What was going to happen to them when the men decided they were no longer happy with what was offered for their pleasure? How was she going to save them all by herself, now that Micah was too sick to help?

Lost in morose thought, Mia stumbled over her own damn feet, always the clumsy one, and tripped. Gravel bit into the palms of her hands as she caught herself from face-planting in the middle of the street, but she managed to keep from making a complete fool of herself. Embarrassment flooded her cheeks with heat when Daryl's roughly calloused hands circled her bicep and helped her off the ground. She hated looking weak, but doing so in front of this particular man was bothering her a bit more than she expected.

He steadied her, gazing at her intently with glacier blue eyes that were anything but cool as they studied her face and took in the reddened cheeks that were stained with tears. Mia's stomached fluttered nervously under the weight of his stare, an uncomfortable feeling that she was beyond unprepared for.

“You good?” Daryl asked, half a second before he slipped his hands from her arm and took her hands in his, studying the palms of them briefly before brushing off the gravel pebbles with an unexpected amount of care.

“I'm fine,” Mia whispered, choking back the sudden lump in her throat. Slipping her hands from his, she had a flash of regret when she no longer felt the heat of his skin against hers, and took a shaky step back from Daryl. “I'm good,” she added, more for her benefit than his.

Her hands shook, her breath was ragged, the flutter in her stomach had grown exponentially, and her knees weakened from one single act of kindness? One slight, gentle touch of a man's hands? What in the hell was going on with her? Nothing that was going on at that moment in her life, her body, her mind, was expected and it confused her. No, actually, what Mia was feeling at that moment was something she hadn't felt in years and frightened the hell out of her.

Eyes wide, Mia tried her best to regain her composure and, instead of giving in to the insanely unexpected feelings coursing through her body, dug deep down inside and found the only feeling she was truly comfortable with in regards to Daryl Dixon-anger.  
Anger was something she could deal with. Anger was like a second skin, something she could slip into and feel at ease.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Mia blinked a few times in Daryl's direction, taking his curious and slightly worried expression, before wrapping her rage around her and saying, “I didn't need your help. In fact, I don't need you at all. Stay away from me.”

Turning on her heel, Mia continued on towards the house that she visited every morning and left Daryl standing in the middle of the street. This time when he followed after her, Mia heard him, because the curse words spewing from his mouth weren't done so quietly as he stomped down the road behind her.

“Sorry, sweetheart, but you're stuck with me,” Daryl reminded her with a less than pleasant snarl to his words. His voice was closer than she expected and Mia cut a glance over her shoulder to find that he was right on her heels, having closed the gap between them quickly.

“Just because you're my guard dog doesn't mean you have to be up my ass,” Mia pointed out, blushing profusely at the thought of him being up her anything, really. Dear God, what was going on with her this morning, she wondered? Thankfully, the heat of the day was high enough to explain away the redness in her cheeks, but there was nothing in the world that could logically explain the damp heat between her legs at the mere thought of Daryl, the grungy, aggravating thorn in her side, taking her roughly from behind.

There was really only one explanation for her current behavior. She was going insane. Yup, she was obviously taking the fast lane straight to the sanitarium. Straight jacket and lithium city, here she comes!

“Trust me, I don't give two shits about being anywhere near your ass,” Daryl replied sarcastically as he strode along beside her, matching her long, purposeful strides without trouble. “Don't mean I'm gonna let you out of my sight though. Done heard you can be a slippery shit when it comes to sneaking out.”

Oh, she was slippery alright, Mia thought to herself with utter disgust. She was pretty sure she needed a cold shower to control her obviously insane hormones, plus a thorough mental scrubbing to remove the perverted thoughts her imagination was suddenly conjuring up. Ugh. She had never been more disgusted with herself than she was at that current moment.

The remainder of the short walk to her destination was spent in brooding silence, until they approached the brick walkway to the house she visited every morning. The flowerbeds that lined the dirty gray walkway bloomed brightly, pink and purple pansies, making the overgrown yard more cheerful than it was. Brushing past Daryl, Mia stomped towards the house and, upon reaching the front door, turned back to him and said, “You can stay out here.”

“Yeah, so you can slip out through the back? Don't think so.” Daryl snorted and headed up the walkway towards her.

“The back door is boarded up, the only access if the front door,” Mia informed him, not budging from her insistence that he stay outside, but one glance into his eyes showed her that he wasn't backing down. Sighing, she explained her reasoning for not wanting him inside. “Look, there's nothing in here but a bunch of girls, okay? They don't want some old guy creeping around when they're getting ready and stuff. Just stay in the foyer, deal?”

The infuriating man offered only a nod, which Mia accepted, although what she really wanted was for him to stay outside. Or, better yet, for him to disappear altogether. Just poof! Gone! That was she wouldn't have to deal with him playing Gage's watch dog, as well as whatever nonsensical thing her hormones were doing that morning.

But, since that wish was obviously never going to come true, she headed inside the house where the girls she hoped to save lived. There were eight of them now, ranging from seventeen to eleven, each of them rescued from certain death, all different types, but death nonetheless. The oldest, Keisha, had been found outside of Birmingham, living in a tent in what used to be a popular hiking and camping location. Alone and severely underfed, one of the members of their group had suffered a knife wound from her before they had managed to get her to accept their help. Their youngest, Fiona, had come to them recently, after being bought from a group of traders for a pitiful amount of whiskey. Sadly, little Fiona wasn't the only one that had been purchased in such a manner. Mia prayed she could keep them from falling back into that horrible life again.

Standing in the foyer, she gestured towards the living room just off to the left and said, “They've got bedrooms, but half the time they end up all sleeping in here. Sprawled out in sleeping bags like it's a sleep over.” One look into the room showed that while the girls were already awake and getting ready for the day, they had obviously done just that the night before. “I think it makes them feel safer.”

“They don't got family around here?” Daryl asked her curiously, as his eyes roamed over the room, taking in the mess of sleeping bags, toys and clothes tossed around the room. Mia figured he was also studying the surroundings for ways that she could possibly escape through, too.

“No. Most of them came here completely alone.” Mia stayed just inside the living room, not willing to move any further into the house until she was sure Daryl was going to stay where he was. “Three of them came to us together. Two girls and a boy, but that's it.”

“Boy stay here, too?” Daryl asked as he continued to survey the room.

“He did at first, but Gage moved him when he got a little older. Didn't think a eleven year old boy needed to be staying with a bunch of girls, so Ollie stays with Mae now.” In fact, Mae had been moved, too. The older woman had started off in the house with the girls, but once Keisha got old enough to watch over the younger ones without help, Mae had uprooted and switched houses with Ollie, to keep the young boy from moving in with some of the older men, whom she felt would be a bad influence on him. Which, Mia thought, was probably a damned good move.

Without ever questioning as to the real reason Daryl was so curious about the house, the girls or Ollie, Mia pointed to the corner of one couch that wasn't currently completely covered with junk. “You can sit there. I don't know how long I'll be, but I'll be upstairs, so it's not like I'm going to jump out the window or anything.”

Instead of sitting on the couch comfortably, Daryl perched on the arm rest, no doubt so he could easily sprint after her if she did in fact make a run for it, but Mia didn't bother to persuade him to get comfy. Hell, she had more to worry about than Daryl's comfort at the moment, most pressing being the damned sixteen year old upstairs that was pregnant and refused to tell Mia or Mae who the father was.

There were only two teenage boys at the compound, one was eleven and the other was nineteen. Mia prayed it was Nick, the nineteen year old who lived with his father across town. Sure, his father, Marcus, was a misogynistic asshole, but Nick seemed well adjusted enough, which Mia accredited to the mother he talked so highly about. But, she had yet to see Nick show any interest in any of the girls. Of course, he could have been playing it cool whenever she was around, but Mia was afraid that wasn't the case.

Unfortunately, Emily's tight lipped stance in regards to naming her baby's father led Mia to believe that the suspect was someone who had more to lose than a teenager accidentally knocking up another teenager. No, Mia was damned near certain that the person responsible for getting the defiant sixteen year old, Emily, pregnant was most likely someone who had free range to roam around the compound without someone watching their every move. Someone who could come and go as he pleased without  
raising question. Someone like one of Gage's security team.

Now Mia just had to get a name to put with her suspicion, which was probably going to be easier said than done. With a grim expression on her face and a heavy heart, Mia trudged upstairs to no doubt have another fight that morning.


	23. Chapter 23

_"Wake me up, wake me up inside I can't wake up,  
Wake me up inside, save me,  
Call my name and save me from the dark, wake me up  
Bid my blood to run, I can't wake up  
Before I come undone, save me  
Save me from the nothing I've become."_

__

Evanescence “Bring Me to Life”

Later that night, Daryl laid on the couch in the living room and stared up at the moonlit ceiling. Blake had told him that the couch folded out and the location of the spare sheets in the downstairs linen closet, which sounded a lot more pleasant than sleeping on the slightly scratchy upholstery of the couch, but the task of actually doing anything other than flopping down and going to sleep sounded highly tedious. Hell, it wasn't like he hadn't slept in shittier places, another night on the couch wasn't the worst thing in the world.

After the day he'd had, following Mia from one location to the other all damned day long, the only thing Daryl had wanted to do at bedtime was lay down and rest. However, now that he was stretched out on his bed for the foreseeable future, his mind refused to shut down. Instead, his brain was busy going over every aspect of the day, from being rudely awakened by Mia that morning, all the way to the point in the night when she had bid everyone goodnight and disappeared upstairs with what could only be described as a defeated expression on her face. Even though he was fairly certain he cared nothing for Mia Carter, Daryl couldn't quite get his brain to stop thinking about her.

He wanted to know what had been said between her and Gage that morning, what had caused her to be so angry and upset upon leaving that she had tripped and fallen in the middle of the street while fleeing the man who was screaming at her from his front porch. Curiosity had him aching to know what transpired on the second floor of the home she had led him to afterwards. What had kept her locked away with one of the girls for a solid hour and caused her to come down stairs with reddened cheeks from what he assumed were tears, but the evidence of any waterworks had already been wiped off her face. He wanted to know what went on behind the doors of every house she had dragged him to after that, sequestering him to the front porch while she went inside and did God knows what for the remainder of the day.

He didn't know why he wanted to know, but damned if that desire wasn't there. The curiosity was festering inside of him to the point that he was halfway tempted to march up the stairs and demand she tell him the answers to all the questions in his overly-awake mind. Luckily, sheer stubbornness kept him rooted to the couch. The very last thing he needed was to have Mia Carter think he cared about her. Or, more like it, the very last thing he needed was to develop a care in the world for Mia.

Instead, Daryl continued to lay on the couch, flipping and flopping on the damned furniture in hopes that he could find a position that was comfortable. By the time his mind started to shut down, the sliver of moonlight on the ceiling had shifted from one side of the room to the other, letting him know just how long he had laid awake. Sleep slithered in and closed around him, drooping his eyelids and relaxing his body, but just as the world slipped away for the remainder of the night, a shrill scream filled the air and jerked him upright.

Eyes wide open now, his body alert and awake, Daryl reached for his weapons, before realizing that he had yet to have them returned to him. Grimacing, he poised for attack and listened to his surroundings in order to determine where the scream had come from. A loud thud sounded from upstairs, followed by another howl of pain, that had Daryl off the couch and clamoring up the stairs with little to no thought of what he was going to do once he got up there and confronted who or what was causing the noises.

His bare foot hit the top landing at the same time Mia stumbled from the bedroom on the left, the light from a lantern just inside the open doorway giving away just enough illumination to show what was happening. “The fuck is going on?” He asked, his sleep deprived voice as scratchy as steel wool, as he glanced from the doorway to where Mia was slumped against the wall. Conflicted feelings gave him pause as he tried to decide between helping the woman at his feet off the floor or run blind into the bedroom to face the unknown.

In the end, he had to do neither, as Mia pulled herself up from the floor and shakily headed back across the foyer into the bedroom she had stumbled from. As she stepped across the threshold, the sound that emanated from inside the room sounded like someone was being torn apart and entirely too close to a walker for Daryl's tastes. His mind made up, he reached through the doorway to grab hold of the thin tank top Mia wore and pulled her from the bedroom.

Paying no attention to her angry protests, Daryl inspected the room cautiously, searching for not only the cause of the sounds, but in hopes of finding either a weapon or something that could be used as one. Instead, he found Micah curled up in the middle of the room, lying in the fetal position on top of an old braided rug that had long since seen its better days. Brow furrowed in confusion, Daryl glanced around the room for signs of an intruder, searching the shadow filled corners all the way back around to the open bedroom door where Mia was standing.

That's when Daryl realized that the howls of pain, the screeching sounds of madness, the agonizingly painful screams, were all coming from the figure that lay curled up at his feet. Micah's brother whimpered now, clutching his head and weeping earnestly, a midst the fragments of posters, scattered books and all around general disarray of the bedroom that looked as though a madman had torn it apart. And that's when he remembered Micah's nose bleed and Blake's words about a mystery sickness. Whatever the man was plagued with was tearing him apart from the inside.

Feeling a twinge of sympathy for the man who had been decent enough to him since they had met the night before, despite the way he felt about the man's sister, Daryl turned to Mia and asked, “Where's my bag?”

“Your what?” Mia asked, more than slightly confused by Daryl's question. “Your bag? Shit, I don't know. I've got more things to worry about.” Stepping into the bedroom, she grabbed hold of his arm and ushered him towards the door. “I've got this.”

Outside the now closed door, Daryl cursed and repeated his question with a colorful expletive thrown in, but of course Mia didn't answer him. Not that he blamed her, since he had unfortunately forgotten to add in the reason why he needed his bag. Of course, it had been a while since he had seen the backpack he'd had with him when Mia and Blake had brought him to the compound. By now, the pills he'd gotten from the last house he had stayed at could have already been used up, but there was no harm in checking. Daryl tried the doorknob and wasn't at all surprised to find it locked and raised his fist to knock, when Blake stepped out into the foyer from his bedroom with the backpack in his hand.

“I heard,” Blake started to explain, but opted to just hand over the dirty bag instead. “I didn't go through it much, just found that notebook of yours. Everything else should still be there.”

Daryl knelt on the floor and unzipped the bag, pulling out the few pieces of dirty clothes inside and the knife he had assumed had been taken away from him. He took a moment to shove the knife sheath into his back pocket, before continuing on in his search for the painkillers he assumed were still buried in the bottom. Back when he had found them, he had taken the time to roll the bottles up in the only pair of decently clean socks he still owned, so they wouldn't rattle around when he walked. And, thankfully, they were still where he placed them.

“Pills?” Blake asked, his voice on edge but colored with hope at the sight of the brownish orange pill containers Daryl held in his hand. “Are those painkillers?”

“Yeah, expired a while ago, but should still work. These things don't go bad as quick as you'd think.” Daryl shoved the items he had taken out back into his bag and zipped it back up before standing up with the bag slung over one shoulder. Holding out the bottles, Daryl gestured towards Blake and said, “Give them to her.”

“Why don't you,” Blake started, only to break off when he realized what he was about to ask. The transaction would go over a hell of a lot smoother if the offered items came from Mia's friend, instead of the pain in her ass that was assigned to her couch. Nodding once, causing the disheveled ginger hair that stood on end atop of his head to bounce cartoonishly, Blake took them from Daryl and said, “Thank you. He needs something to get him through the nights.”

Without bothering to reply, Daryl turned and headed back downstairs to his couch and hopefully, a few hours of sleep. Doubtful, but a man could hope.

Once again, he was halfway to the land of slumber, when a sound pulled him back from the edge of sleep. This sound was softer that the noises that had woken him earlier, this was a gentle brush of bare feet against the carpet near the couch, just loud enough to catch his attention. Cracking one eye, Daryl found himself staring at the silhouette of a woman's body, the moonlight now shining through a window at the rear of the house was bright enough to show off Mia's curves as she approached him.

“I, um, I wanted to thank you for the pills,” Mia said in the near dark, her usually husky voice as silky as melted chocolate as she lowered her voice as to not wake the brother she had undoubtedly just gotten to quiet down and rest. “You didn't have to do that, and you did. I appreciate it...Micah will appreciate it.”

“It's what they're there for,” Daryl replied, shrugging off her sentiment as though what he did truly meant nothing at all. In this day and time, any medication was a blessing, much less something that could take away a person's pain, even for a small moment. To give away something like that without expecting anything in return, well, that alone was unheard of and unexpected, especially when it came from someone who butted heads with you nonstop.

“Yeah, well, doesn't mean you had to give it to him,” Mia continued, her voice now thick with the emotions she was trying her best to keep at bay. He could hear her tears in her words, the thickness that sadness caused that no other emotion could manage, and for the second time that day, Daryl had to stop himself from showing Mia just how much a woman's tears upset him.

It was his greatest weakness, or at least to Daryl it was. Years of listening to his mother cry after being beaten by his father had left a mark on his heart as well. For most of his adult life, Daryl had managed to keep that ingrained reaction to a woman's tears under control, but as the years had passed after the outbreak, that control had slipped away with each woman he had grown to care for and the tears they cried. Beth had chipped away at that cold, dead heart of his, Carol had inched inside as well, but Lily had broken down each and every wall, and caused his heartache at the sound and sight of a woman crying to break him down...even if he couldn't stand the woman in question.

Mia sniffled and in the pale light of the room, he saw her lift her hands and wipe them across her face. He watched in silence as she struggled to gain control of her emotions, completely clueless that he was struggling as well, trying to not offer her some type of comfort. She had no idea how relieved he was when she finally dropped her arms and silently left the living room.

“Shit,” Daryl muttered softly to no one but himself, when Mia was back upstairs and he could finally breathe again. As he got settled on the couch once more, Daryl reminded himself for the millionth time the reason he was there and that it was not, under any circumstances, anything to do with forming any type of bond with Mia Carter.

Staring up at the ceiling once more, Daryl reminded himself of that fact over and over until the sky started to wake just outside the window. And, for the first time in a very long time, the woman in his mind as he succumbed to sleep wasn't Lily and when he would realize that upon waking, his heart would break just a little bit more.


	24. Chapter 24

_“The past is haunting me,  
Let go and set me free,  
Open the door to the unknown.”_

__

_Motionless In White “Break the Cycle”_

Over the course of the next few days Daryl and Mia fell into an amicable routine, brought about by the events from the night of Micah's last attack that had yet to be discussed. They had by no means formed a friendship, what had been put in place was at least peaceful enough to allow the two of them to relax around one another tremendously. Mia appreciated the distance Daryl gave her, as he only truly hovered up her ass when Gage or one of his minions were lurking around, and in return, she knocked down her fiery temper a few degrees and tried her best to keep it in check as often as possible. Neither one of them were in a position that they enjoyed, so the best way to suffer through their imprisonment with one another was to do so as drama-free as humanly possible. Easier said, of course, than done on most days, since their temperaments were entirely too much alike, but at least they were both trying.

In fact, for the most part when they were in the relative privacy of the house, Daryl spent most of his time either alone in the back yard or playing cards with her brother and Blake. For which, she gratefully appreciated, as it gave her some much needed alone time in the afternoons to curl up somewhere away from everyone else and read a book, or simply take a nap.

But, that need was creeping up again. That insatiable itch that festered until she gave in to the need and gave Gage the slip. That need was only exasperated by the monotonous routine she and Daryl followed day in and day out for a solid week: up at the break of dawn, slurp down a quick breakfast and head out to check over her flock, followed by cleaning the house, taking care of the yard as best as possible, rounding up the girls for the grammar and literature classes she taught a twice a week, before eating dinner and heading to bed, before starting the whole thing over again the next morning. It really was no wonder her skin was starting to itch, really. She had never been one to follow the rules, much less a schedule and doing so had always caused her rebellious side to flare up.

So, after a solid twenty-four hours of resisting the urge, Mia gave in to the devil on her shoulder and slipped on her bikini beneath her usual uniform of shorts and a tank top after brushing her teeth and wiping the crud out of the corner of her eyes that morning in the bathroom. After swiping on a bit of deodorant, she cracked the bathroom door and checked the foyer to make sure her very own Lurch wasn't lurking in the hallway, before darting in the opposite direction of the stairs towards the master bedroom where Blake was undoubtedly still asleep, as he and Micah were definitely not early risers.

Without bothering to knock, since she never had before, so there wasn't a reason to start that morning, Mia slipped inside his bedroom and closed the door softly behind her. While she knew without a doubt that Daryl was awake and either sitting on the couch waiting for her, or wandering the fenced in back yard like a prowling panther, Mia didn't want to draw his attention just yet. Although, she had a feeling he was more than aware that she was no longer in bed asleep. Daryl had to be the most intuitive and observant man she had ever met, which wasn't always a good thing.

“Blake,” she hissed, nudging the bare leg that poked out from beneath the sheet. “Wake up.”

“Mia?” Blake asked groggily, his voice hoarse with sleep. He cracked one eye and glared at her with a mixture of confusion and annoyance. “It's still early, is something wrong?”

Mia crooked a half smile at the disheveled ginger hair sprouting in various directions on top of Blake's head, which made him look quite a bit younger than his twenty-five years, especially with the sprinkle of freckles across his cheeks and bridge of his nose. She hooked a thumb over her shoulder towards the window, where the sunlight was streaming through brightly, and corrected him, “Not exactly sun rise out there, B.”

“Close enough,” Blake grumbled, as he stuck his head beneath the pillow. With a muffled voice, he added something damn near indecipherable, but Mia was able to understand the part about going back to sleep if the world wasn't currently in peril.

Grabbing hold of his ankle, she tugged on it playfully and pestered him, “Come on. Get up. I need to get out of here for a while and you have to come with me.”

His interest peaked, Blake peered out from beneath the blue and white stripped pillow case and asked, “And, exactly how are we busting out of this place without your keeper?”

“Easy. Your window.” Mia laughed softly at Blake's expression, one that bordered on panic, as he wasn't exactly a fan of heights, and said, “It's only one story. I was scaling that height when I was just a kid.”

While his expression was dubious, Blake rolled out of bed and quickly slipped on a pair of swim trunks and a tee shirt, before slipping his feet into a pair of sneakers. Hiking through the woods typically required footwear with a bit more ankle support, but since his boots were on the back porch where he had left the the night before, the sneakers would have to do, but Mia made a mental note to take the hike slower than usual in order to keep her less than nimble friend from injuring himself.

With one leg dangling out of the open window, the one that faced the side of the house and, in theory, shouldn't be visible from where Daryl usually spent his mornings, Mia motioned for Blake to step closer and said, “It's easy, just watch what I do and try your best to copy me. All you have to do is inch closer to the trellis and use it like a ladder. Neither of us ways enough to cause it to fall.”

“What if it's dry rotted or missing a screw or something?” Blake asked nervously, as he eyeballed the window as though it was a ginormous spider. “Then what?”

“Then you fall,” Mia replied, as deadpanned as possible. Blake's face paled at the thought and he retreated towards the bedroom door. “Blake, face your fears. Just follow me, you'll be fine.”

Without waiting for his reply, knowing full well that he would follow her to the ends of the earth, Mia found her footing on the trellis and shimmied down it quickly. Standing at the bottom, partially hidden by a giant flowering bush that she had no idea what the name of it was, she glared up towards the window and smiled when Blake's foot poked out the window and started rooting around for a footing on the trellis.

A half hour later, after a slower than usual walk through the woods, the shimmer of water could be seen through a break in the trees and it took all of her self-control not to sprint ahead and fling herself into the water. While the area was usually safe, it was still best to proceed out of the wood line with caution and make sure the immediate area was clear before dropping your guard enough to undress and leave your weapon on the dock while you were in the water.

Luckily, Blake wasn't a strong swimmer and, despite the lessons she had tried her best to give him, typically opted to sit in the shade and enjoy the silence or search the nearby area for berries while she swam. While he wasn't exactly what she would call the best security guard in the world, at least having him out of the water gave her a small bit of relief long enough to get a good swim in. Hopefully this time they wouldn't be interrupted by a scuffle with a straggly stranger.

Standing on the dock beside her discarded boots, the wooden slats were warm beneath her bare feet, as she shimmied out of her frayed blue jean shorts and worn tank top. Laying her jeans down first, she added her pistol before laying the tank top over it, just in case water might get splashed in their direction when she dove into the water. Without bothering to toe the water to test the temperature, Mia dove headfirst into the water and relished the shocking feel of its icy depths as she swam straight down, before bursting to the top to catch her breath at what felt like the last second.

Freedom, or as close to it as she had felt in a long time, eased away that bit of tension in her shoulders, loosened the knots in her back and relaxed her into a state of downright bliss as she swam the distance of the pond no less than twenty times before coming to a stop in the middle. Floating on her back, she let the water lap over her ears and deafen the sounds of the world around her, giving her a sense of peace in a time of chaos. By the time she started back towards the dock, her stomach was rumbling to the point of pain, letting her know that she had stayed in the water past lunch. Of course, the shriveled pads of her fingers showed just how waterlogged she truly was.

Planting her hands on the dock, Mia pushed out of the water to lay on the sun warmed slats to dry off. She never brought a towel with her, preferring to let the heat of the day do what it did best and dry her wet skin off that way. She had just gotten as comfortable as one could while lying on wood, when the sound of a twig breaking behind her in the woods snapped her to attention.

Rolling over, she reached for the pile of clothes to the right of her and stuck her hand beneath the tank top to grab hold of her pistol, when Daryl stepped out of the wood line with a less than amused expression on his face.

“Took you long enough,” Mia said tartly, letting her sarcastic nature slip in and deal with her guard dog, instead of playing the nice card and apologizing for giving him the slip. Laying her gun back down, she reclaimed her position in the sun and closed her eyes. “Figured you'd have been here hours ago.”

“Just 'cause you see me now don't mean I ain't been here the whole time,” Daryl replied with an equal dose of sarcasm, as he made his way down towards the dock to join her, albeit doing so while standing directly behind where she was laying and not actually relaxing on the dock, too. “Sent Blake back up already. Need to head that way, too. People done noticed you're gone.”

Cracking one eye, Mia raised an arm to shade her gaze from the bright sun while eyeballing Daryl warily. “What? You haven't already snitched to your buddy?”

“Done said he ain't my friend,” Daryl said with a scowl, his normally narrowed gaze even more so thanks to the sunlight blaring in his face. Although, who knows, maybe the shaggy bangs in his eyes actually shielded some of the glare? It was possible, maybe.

“Okay then, your boss. That better?” Mia asked as she leaned up ever so slightly, perching her upper body up with her arms, while keeping her long legs stretched out in front of her. Hell, she was already in trouble. No sense running back to get yelled at by Gage just yet, might as well enjoy a bit more of sun and freedom. Of course, staying might mean Daryl got in trouble for not dragging her back immediately after finding her, but she tried her best to brush that thought aside.

The scowl on his face deepened. Daryl shook his head as he muttered something that was too quiet to understand, but the tone of his voice was enough to decipher his frustration with her. Mia didn't want to admit to herself that having him annoyed with her wasn't the greatest feeling in the world. Yet another thing she brushed aside and tucked away in that little box in the shadows of her mind.

“I ain't told no one,” Daryl finally said, after what seemed like a solid five minute pause of awkward silence. “Just next time, maybe tell me what you're doing? Makes it easier than trying to search for you without letting everyone know you're gone.”

“I don't get it, aren't you supposed to tell Gage when I slip out? Isn't that the whole reason you're in our house?” Mia asked as she sat up fully and angled her body to face Daryl, staring up at him with a million questions on the tip of her tongue.  
“That's Gage's plan,” Daryl replied as he took a step backwards, as though retreating from her questioning gaze. Dropping his eyes from hers, he studied the ground as though it was the most interesting thing in the world, before finally saying, “Never said it was mine.”

“Oh,” Mia murmured, dumbfounded. For what was likely the first time in her life, she was truly speechless. So, instead of asking a myriad of questions, she stared up at Daryl as he continued to avoid meeting her gaze.

“When you're ready, we need to get back.” Daryl never looked up at her, before turning on his heel and heading back towards the cover of the woods.

It took Mia a few minutes to gather her wits before she could follow suit. To say the day had taken a surprising turn would be an understatement.


	25. Chapter 25

_"Is there nothing to keep myself awake?  
To keep the walls from caving in,  
When all they ever do is try to bend and break.  
Is there forgiveness in the end?"_

__

_Bad Omens "Worst in Me"_

It was hot. Too hot, actually, even for Daryl Dixon, who had spent the majority of his childhood and formative years wandering from trailer park to trailer park with his broke as parents, who could barely afford to put food on the table, much less pay for the luxury of air conditioning. One would think he would be used to the stifling, almost suffocating feel of the summer in the south, but damned if he wasn't sitting on the front porch sweating his ass off nonetheless. Sweat trickled down his neck, slipped beneath the collar of one of the shirts that had magically appeared in a neat, folded pile on his couch a couple days ago. He assumed Mia had rounded up the clothes for him, no doubt tired of seeing, and smelling him, in the same clothes day in and day out, but since she hadn't bothered to say anything to him about them, Daryl had chosen to simply take the gifts and carry on with his day without offering up his gratitude. Mostly, because wearing the dirty clothes hadn't offended him, he hadn't asked for clean ones. He had grown used to wearing less than fresh clothing a long time ago and, for the most part, it took a lot to get his nose to pay attention to any foul odors that lingered around his body.

But, if the end of the summer acted like the first part of the season had, they were in for a few weeks of sheer torture, both in heat and the stench of body odor that it produced without the appropriate toiletries and air conditioning to combat it. The oppressive heat beat down on the members of the small community from sun up to sun down, with very little difference in the temperature from the time they woke up to the time they damned near passed out at night due to heat exhaustion. It was probably the most miserable Daryl had been in a very long time, and that was saying a lot given the state of the world for the past six years or so.

The cotton of his shirt was already damp and breakfast had barely been cleaned up, the soft fabric clung to his skin to make an already uncomfortable situation just a bit more unbearable. Oh, what he would give for a cold ass shower and the ability to simply lay around the house with the air conditioner blasting away with an arctic chill, all the while wearing nothing but a satisfied grin. Unfortunately, while he could probably manage a short, cold shower, the fantasy of chilly air conditioning was out, as well as the notion of wearing nothing but his birthday suit for the better part of the day. Daryl chuckled at the thought of how Mia and her bunch would react to finding his naked ass sprawled out across their furniture.

While the tension between them had done a complete one-eighty since the first day Mia had bashed him in the head with her rifle, the weeks that passed had not bonded them well enough to feel comfortable enough without his shirt on to hide his scars on his back, much less walk around with his dick waving in the air for all to see. Especially not since the day he had tracked her down to the lake after she had thought she had successfully given him the slip. Something had shifted that afternoon, not for the good or the bad, really. More like there was an acceptance of his presence, a somewhat truce called to the squabbling they were oh so good at, but no friendship had been broached. Which, for Daryl, wasn't a bad thing. The less connections he made with this place, the better. If and when the time came to smuggle Lucy out of the compound, he didn't want any feelings for Mia or her comrades to cloud his judgment. Getting Lucy safely outside of the walls and escorted nearly a full state away to be with her sister was the only thing he needed to have on his mind, and if Mia happened to get in the way of that mission, Daryl certainly didn't want any warm and fuzzy feelings about the woman to get in the way of putting a bullet, bolt or blade into her to achieve his goals.

It was just better that way.

Standing on the porch, tucked away in the minuscule patch of shade that lingered against the front door, Daryl watched as Mia and a couple of the girls tended to the garden that lined the western side of the front yard. Tomatoes, cucumbers and what looked like green beans, were dug up from the ground and placed carefully into baskets or buckets beside them. The crop looked a bit pitiful in Daryl's opinion, not nearly as bold or plump as what Rick managed to grow each season back at the lodge, but it was food at least. So long as it was edible, it didn't really matter what the vegetables looked like, he guessed.

The sound of the door opening behind him caused Daryl to flinch ever so slightly, not exactly comfortable with someone being at his back, but he hid his discomfort as he often did and stepped to the side to let Micah out onto the porch beside him. In the short time he had been at the compound, Daryl had watched as Micah's state of health rapidly declined with each passing day. Micah's dark hair hung limply around his gaunt, pale face, dark circles floated beneath sunken eyes, and it seemed as though the scent of death followed the man, despite the fact that Daryl knew Micah took daily showers. If he had to guess, Daryl figured Mia's twin wasn't going to hang around in this world much longer. He hoped he was wrong, since he actually liked the guy now that he had spent some time with him, but he had seen more than his fair share of people on the brink of death and Micah certainly fit the bill.

“Gardening not your thing?” Micah asked as he took a seat in a rocking chair that had seen its better days, given the state of the paint that was peeling away from the wood.

“Nah,” Daryl shook his head slightly and glanced out towards the women busily working in the yard. “Ain't never liked it much. Rather hunt.”

“You know, we've got groups that go out and hunt a few times a week. If you're any good at it, Gage would probably give you a reprieve on babysitting duty.” Micah said as he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the back of the rocker. “God knows we could use more food around here. Crops aren't doing so great this year, won't be feeding as many people as easily as we usually do.”

“What's wrong with them?” Daryl asked curiously, cutting his gaze away from where Mia was bent over, furiously digging in the soil with her hands. Looking away from her was the best option, because otherwise, someone was going to catch him staring at her ass. While he still hadn't figured out if he even liked the woman or not, his body had damned well decided it liked the way her figure looked at least. An aggravating turn of events, for sure. Adjusting his stance, Daryl leaned against the railing and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Pests of some sort. I don't know most bugs from the other, but Mia could tell you if you need to know a name. Between them wiping out most of our corn and squash, and the lack of good rain lately, we have less than half of what we normally produce.” Eyes closed, Micah's voice was weak, as though the simple act of speaking was draining the last of his life force out of his body. “She's always had a green thumb. Me? Not so much.”

So the vegetables didn't always look that pathetic? Daryl shot a glance towards the half-filled containers of pitiful looking vegetables and wondered how his family was managing this season. While he figured Rick would be able to get ahead of any pest problems, the lack of rain was something that Rick would have no control over. While there had been a downpour here and there, they had done nothing more than make the humidity a thousand times worse and didn't stick around long enough to soak the land the way it needed to grow bountiful crops.

For the millionth time in only a few months, a pang of regret his Daryl square in the gut at the thought of his family. While going out on his own and working out his demons by eradicating the evil that had hurt Lily so deeply, and taking out the encampments that had traded with Mathias and his brethren, the time had come for him to return home. In fact, he was finding it harder and harder each morning he woke up to not snatch Lucy from her slumber, sneak out under the cover of darkness and run straight back to the lodge. But, he knew better than to let his emotions dictate his plan of action. It was best to keep a level head and wait for his chance to get it done correctly.

Of course, it didn't help that he had yet to manage more than a half a damned second in the girl's presence without someone barging in before he could talk to her. It seemed as though Lucy was always with someone else, and that someone else was Mia half the damned time. The younger girl followed Mia around with stars in her eyes, like a pint sized shadow. Thus far, Daryl had managed a total of four words with Lucy on the porch, while Mia was helping Micah with something upstairs. He swore, it was like Mia had her eyes and ears on the kid every second that Lucy was around her. Of course, keeping a watch over your commodities was just good business sense, and Mia was on top of her game in that matter.

Daryl's spine straightened at the sight of Lucy breaking off from the herd, as it looked like she was taking a basket of tomatoes around back to where the rain collection barrel was for washing. Curiously, he cut a glance away from the young girl to see what Micah was doing and found that the man appeared to be asleep, sitting straight up in the rocking chair and barely moving. If it wasn't for the slight sound of his ragged breathing, Daryl would have thought Micah had bit the dust already.

Moving stealthily, as to not draw attention from Mia or any of the other females in the yard or wake up Micah, he slipped back inside of the house with the intentions of cutting Lucy off as she rounded the row of hedges on the backside of the residence. Hot-footing it through the living room and the kitchen, Daryl was letting himself out onto the sun porch just as Lucy stepped up to the large container that they used to collect rain water. While there was running water in the house, Mia had decided long ago that using it for tasks like cleaning was wasteful, hence the barrels placed in the backyard. It made sense, really, although the lack of rain lately had left the barrels a half-filled, pitiful sight.

Like an animal, Lucy's ears picked up on the sound of him approaching and she immediately placed the barrel between him and herself. As a child raised in the apocalypse, her survival instincts were often better than those who were older when the outbreak started. He held his hand out and motioned to her to stay quiet and said, “I ain't gonna hurt you.” His words were as soft and gentle as his rough voice could manage as he spoke to Lucy in the same manner he would coax a startled horse.

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously and for that, Daryl didn't blame her. She didn't know him from a hole in the wall and, in her experiences in life that meant she couldn't trust him. He understood that and kept a solid six feet between them as he spoke to her. “Look, I ain't got much time. Your sister sent me. Mary sent me.”

“My sister?” Lucy whispered softly, disbelief colored her words, and still there was an undercurrent of hope that could be heard. “How...how do you know my sister? How do I know you're not lying to me?”

“You don't, but you got to trust me, okay?” Daryl dropped his hands to his side and pushed aside the urge to snatch the kid, scale the fence and run away from the compound like his ass was on fire. Mia knew the kid was in the backyard and if she didn't go back out front soon, someone would come looking for her. He quickly ran through the things that he had discussed with Mary about Lucy and spit them out so that she would know he was telling the truth about knowing her sister. “You had this mutt named Poppy, some small, scraggly looking thing you found in some parking lot. You used to feed it your peas, because you hated them. Mary told me that your dad knew it, but didn't say nothing about it.”

Daryl paused for a bit to let Lucy process that nugget of information, but not for long. He wanted to spit out every tiny bit of information about her that Mary had told him so that the Lucy wasn't afraid of him, but he knew that he didn't have that long. Mary had told him bucket loads of stories about her baby sister, partly because she knew he needed things to tell Lucy in order to get her to trust him, but also because Mary had been unable to control her nervous chatter during their trek back to the lodge.

“She said you dislocated your shoulder playing on the monkey bars, but that you didn't hardly cry at all. Said you was brave,” Daryl said pointedly as he slowly closed the gap between them and squatted down so that he was closer to her height. Lucy was small for her age, making her look far younger than the twelve or thirteen year old she actually was now. The fear in her eyes faded away ever so slightly as Daryl made eye contact with her and asked, “You think you can be brave enough to get out of here? Go back with me to your sister?”

And then, just as Daryl thought he was making headway in his mission at the sight of Lucy nodding her head in agreement, the sound of a pistol cocking behind him dashed his hopes and caused his heart to fill with dread. For the second time, Mia Carter got the drop on him and figuratively had him by the balls.

“Get away from her or I swear to God I will make you regret it,” Mia's said harshly to his back. There was a promise in her words, a cold hard truth in them that wasn't there when she had come to Blake's rescue the first time she had held him at gun point that let Daryl know she wasn't just making idle threats this time.

Slowly, he raised his hands out from his sides enough to show her that he wasn't holding any weapons and stood up to face the murderous gleam in Mia's eyes. He hadn't a doubt in the world that the woman before him would pull the trigger and end his life, but what she didn't know is that he had faced Death more times than he could count and in the end, Death had yet to claim his life.

And, Daryl Dixon would be damned if Death won that day.


	26. Chapter 26

_"Trust I seek and I find in you  
Every day for us something new  
Open mind for a different view  
And nothing else matters"_

__

Metallica "Nothing Else Matters"

Sitting back on her heels, the sun beat down on Mia's bare shoulders with a ferocity that had sweat beading up and trickling over her skin. Sighing, wishing for the umpteenth time for a frosty air conditioner, she placed the pitiful looking vegetable in her hand into a nearby basket and shook off her dirt covered hands while looking around the yard for Lucy. The child had gone to the back yard to wash off her basket of vegetables and had yet to return. Granted, normal tasks for adults typically took far longer children to complete, thanks to short attention spans and plenty of things to distract them, but Lucy generally didn't have a problem with lollygagging. Using the back of her wrist to push the bill of her ball cap upwards just enough to wipe away the layer of sweat collected beneath the brim, Mia wiped her other hand off on the thigh of the filthy, sweat and dirt covered pants before standing up.

“I'm going to take this basket to the back to wash and see what's keeping Lucy,” she said to Mae, who was crouched down on the ground with the rest of the people gathered around for a morning of gardening.

Without waiting for her mother in law to respond, Mia headed towards the backyard and for the first time, caught sight of her brother dozing in a rocking chair on the front porch. The porch that Daryl had previously occupied since the handful of women and young girls had descended upon the front yard for their gardening session. Frowning, Mia paused long enough to consider waking Micah up so he could get some rest in an actual bed, but decided against it since he seemed to be napping quite well where he was.

But, where was Daryl? Her ever present shadow? Sure, over the weeks since he had been forced into her home, his watchful eye had slowly became less diligent with time. Now he sat in the living room while she was in the kitchen, or played cards with the guys on the sun porch while she was in her bedroom, but he was still always there. And now, it seemed as though he wasn't. Of course, he could always be in the house using the restroom or something else easily explained, but the slowly building pit of dread in the bottom of her stomach was telling Mia otherwise and had her hot-footing it around the house with her pistol in her hand.

While Daryl had been in her home for weeks, she still didn't really know the man and as she jogged around the corner of the house, Mia cursed herself for letting her guard slip ever so slightly with each passing day. She knew better than to turn a blind eye to someone she barely knew, a lesson that had been drilled into her since the outbreak, but she had let it happen anyway.

As she stepped fully into the backyard, Mia cursed and felt the bottom of her stomach drop heavily with disappointment as she watched Daryl sink down to his knees and lean in close to the little girl she was supposed to be protecting. For the second time since Lucy had come into her life, Mia had let a predator slip in and sneak up on the child.

“Get away from her or I swear to God I will make you regret it,” Mia's voice reverberated with anger as she made her demands. Gun raised in her shaking hand, Mia took a step backwards when Daryl stood up and turned to face her, putting more space between them. “Lucy, come here, sweetie.”

Waving with her free hand for the wide eyed tween to step around Daryl and come to her side, Mia frowned when Lucy ignored the command and shook her head. Misinterpreting Lucy's defiance for fright, Mia softened her voice ever so slightly and tried again. “Lucy, it's okay. I won't let him hurt you. Just come here, okay?”

She could feel Daryl's eyes on her as she focused on Lucy, who adamantly stayed rooted in place and ignored her pleas once more. Irritated now, Mia tore her eyes from Lucy and focused in on Daryl, “What'd you do to her?”

“I ain't done shit to her,” Daryl ground out with disgust lacing his words, as though the sheer thought of what Mia had suggested offended him. “I was just talking to her. Ain't no sense in getting your panties in a twist.”

“Real mature,” Mia replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes at Daryl's childish remark without lowering the gun even a millimeter. “From where I'm standing it looked a hell of a lot more intense than just having a chat.”

“We were, Miss Mia,” Lucy interjected. Wringing her hands in front of her stomach, the tween's gaze flickered between Mia and Daryl nervously, before speaking again, as though deciding what she needed to say. “He...he knows my sister. He knows Mary and...and he's here to save me. My sister sent him to find me.”

Mia watched the emotions that played out on Lucy's face and felt a twinge of regret that she was going to have to break the little girl's heart. Daryl was obviously just telling Lucy what she wanted, no...needed to hear, to gain her trust so he could do God only knows what to her. Cutting her eyes towards Daryl, Mia was surprised that not only was he not contradicting what Lucy was saying, but that the expression in his indigo gaze hadn't wavered an iota.

“That's just low,” Mia growled, infuriated that Daryl was not only preying on the young girl, but was also shady enough to fill her head with heartbreaking delusions. “Making her think her sisters alive? That your here to play guardian angel and take her back to where her sister is waiting for her? That's not only low, it's cruel.”

“It's true,” Daryl replied flatly after a brief pause.

“Bullshit,” Mia scoffed. “Sell your lies elsewhere, because I'm not buying it. You want me to believe that you're here on some hero mission? Sure, and I'm the Tooth Fairy.”

“It is true!” Lucy cried as she finally stepped away from the rain bucket towards Mia, but stopped halfway there to stand next to Daryl instead. “He knew stuff that only Mary would know. He knew about Poppy and the peas! How'd he know if Mary didn't tell him?”

“Lucy, sweetie, I'm not saying he didn't talk to Mary,” Mia paused, unsure of how to continue. How did one go about telling a young girl, who was nearing her teen years, but was still very much a child in many ways, that it was far more likely that Daryl had met her older sister and gained a bit of insight into Lucy's life before trading Mary off to the highest bidder, or worse...using her for his own sick fantasies before tossing her aside like trash? Mia mulled over her words before speaking, but never got a chance to continue, because Lucy spoke first.

“He's like you, Mia. You and Blake and Micah,” Lucy's voice shook and her big eyes filled with tears as she hurriedly spoke. “He wants to save me, like you do, Miss Mia. He says he has this place where he takes kids like me to be safe. Just like you want to do with me and the others.”

“Lucy, how'd you know about that?” Mia asked curiously, letting her arm drop and thus, lowering the pistol to point further down Daryl's body. No longer aiming square at his chest, but closer to his thigh now, which likely wouldn't kill him, but would be effective nonetheless. “How did you know about our plan?”

“I...I heard you talking about it. You were telling Mr. Blake that time was running out, that you needed to sneak us out of here and go somewhere safe, but you didn't know where we'd go.” Lucy dipped her head, figuring that she would get reprimanded for eavesdropping on what had been meant to be a very private and confidential conversation. Peeking up at Mia through dark eyelashes, Lucy added, “Daryl can help you. He knows where to take us.”

Hope flared inside of Mia, before she pushed it back down, knowing full well that the stories Daryl had filled Lucy's head with were just that...stories. But, there was something there, something in the back of her mind that let her keep that spark of hope pushed down and not obliterated altogether. Her mind flashed to the black and white speckled notebook that had been in Daryl's bag, the one with all the locations of other camps that he had taken out those in command, before slipping away with the women and children that had been in their possession. This whole time she had told herself that he was no better than the men he had killed and stolen from, that Daryl had simply traded them off for his own profit.

Was there actually a chance that he had actually been rescuing those women and children and taking them somewhere safe? Had he been killing those men to save the lives of others or had he sold the one's he took from those compounds like property?  
“Is it true?” Mia asked softly, not wanting to let her hopes rise, but wishing that she could. She knew that she couldn't save everyone, but maybe with Daryl at her side, she could save more than what she could with Blake and Micah.

Daryl simply nodded in response, being as silent as he had been during the days when she'd had to interrogate him. Mia lowered the pistol a few inches lower as she stupidly let her heart fill with the hope that she knew she needed to get rid of. She barely knew the man in front of her. Hell, she didn't really know him at all. They'd only lived together for a short time and Daryl was less inclined to share tidbits about himself than she was. They were strangers, pure and simple. Strangers who just happened to live together.

“Of course it's true!” Lucy exclaimed far too loudly, before lowering her voice to speak again. “He said he'd take me to where his family is. That I'd be safe there. That I could live there with Mary, because they have lots of room and other kids. Isn't that right, Mr. Daryl?”

“Yeah, kid, that's what I said,” Daryl replied, infuriatingly answering Lucy's questions and not Mia's. His gaze never left Mia's though, which was smart, seeing as how she still had the gun at least pointed towards him. Meeting Mia's gaze, he added, “We got plenty of room.” He paused, as if mulling over what to say next, and said, “Work with me and I can get them all out.”

Hope flared, bright and intense, inside of Mia's heart. She wanted nothing more than to get the kids at the compound somewhere else, somewhere safe, before the foreboding event that she knew was coming actually happened. While she didn't know what was going to happen, Mia was one hundred percent certain that something bad was coming. The only thing she wanted was to make sure the innocent souls in her care escaped before whatever was coming actually showed up.

Knowing she was going to have to take a leap and trust the man before her, Mia dropped her arm completely and pointed the barrel of the pistol at the ground. She could see the relief on Daryl's face, the weight of the situation visibly lessened in his stance and he lowered his own arms from where he had been holding them up towards his disheveled head. Taking a deep breath, Mia asked, “Partners?”

“Partners,” Daryl replied firmly.

Mia didn't know if she had just made a good decision or a deal with the Devil, but one way or the other, something was about to change around the compound. She just hoped it was a change for the good.  



	27. Chapter 27

_“Search and you'll find the answers  
To be the change that you want to see  
Grant the serenity reclaiming honor and dignity  
Can't you see what's going wrong?  
Don't you feel it growing strong?  
Don't let go, keep holding on  
Working forces kneel you down  
Authority and power ruling out.”_

__

_Queensryche “Redemption”_

Later that night, Daryl restlessly paced the dimly lit space between the living room and the foyer as he anxiously waited for Mia to come downstairs. They had yet to talk about what had happened that morning, opting to wait until they were certain that there was no one around to eavesdrop on their conversation. The decision had been Mia's, but at the time Daryl had accepted her choice. The fewer people that knew what they were up to the better.

But, his patience was quickly running out, having been made to wait all the way through the day and well past dinner, when they had walked Lucy back to her place. Now, he was still having to wait, as Mia was upstairs helping Micah clean up from yet another bloody nose before settling him in to bed. Daryl was honestly shocked that she hadn't insisted on her brother and Blake being present for the conversation, but he also figured that she wanted to see what he brought to the table before including anyone else in the operation. He knew she still didn't trust him, which was fine, because he didn't exactly trust her yet either.

While Lucy had insisted that she had heard Mia scheming with Blake about getting the girls, and Ollie, out of the compound and settled somewhere safe, Daryl couldn't bring himself to put a lot of faith in what Lucy had heard and been able to comprehend fully. She was only twelve, thirteen at the most, and could have easily misconstrued what they were discussing, since she had been listening on the sly, otherwise known as from the other side of a cracked window, and had very likely missed a word or two here and there. Mia and Blake could have easily been planning on stealing the children and selling them to the highest bidder themselves. Of course, now that Daryl had spent the better part of a month with Mia and Blake, he wasn't entirely certain they would do something so despicable, but appearances were often deceiving, so he planned on keeping his guard up until he was absolutely certain they were trustworthy.

The sound of someone coming down the stairs caused him to stop wearing a path in the flooring and turn towards the foyer in time to see Mia in the opening between the living room and the kitchen. Illuminated by a small scattering of candles, the room wasn't exactly beaming with light, but the flickering golden hue was bright enough to not only show him who was entering the room, but to highlight just how fucking attractive she was. He didn't want to admit it to himself and he most certainly had no intention of telling her, but the longer he spent around Mia Carter, the more he found himself attracted to her. A fact that hurt his heart, as it most certainly still belonged to a woman it could no longer have. In Daryl's mind, once his heart had fallen in love with Lily Richards, not even her death meant that his heart could belong to anyone else. Illogical, sure, but for someone who had never been in love before falling for the troubled redheaded dancer, he didn't know how to move past what he felt for her.

But, damn, if he thought for half a fucking second that he could act on the pure, unadulterated lust he felt for Mia without it meaning he didn't still love Lily, then he would be hard pressed to not give into what his body wanted. That thought was impossible though, as his heart wouldn't allow it. No, couldn't allow it. So, instead of shoving Mia against the wall, stripping her of her clothes and pushing his hardened length inside of her hot, lithe body until they were both screaming with pleasure, the way he used to with the nameless women of his past before the outbreak, Daryl shoved the desire he felt for Mia aside and buried it in the cold, dark recesses of his mind. ]

He was in this town on a mission, to save Lucy and the other innocent children from whatever darkness that hunted them and to give the guilt that lived inside of him over Lily a tiny bit of relief. He was not in this town to fuck the woman in front of him like their lives depended on it. Nope, that was so far off his list of things to do that it was stupid to even let his mind wander to the thought of how it would feel to have her legs wrapped around his waist as he ploughed into her over and over. Absolutely, positively stupid. And yet, as Mia walked into the dimly lit room wearing a pair of painted on blue jeans and equally as tight tank top, Daryl could think of nothing else until she spoke.

“Alright, tell me what your plans are,” Mia said, getting straight to the point as she sank into the overstuffed cushions of the chair across from the couch that was his bed. “Sell me on this, make me believe that you're one of the good guys.”

Daryl hadn't missed the pistol in her hand, the one that was recently cleaned given the smell of gun oil on it and the way the metal of the barrel glimmered in the candlelight as it laid on the table beside where Mia sat. She didn't believe him. Wouldn't believe him straight away and obviously wanted to protect herself if what she believed about him was true. But, her distrust and pistol didn't faze Daryl as he lowered himself onto the couch and tossed the black and white speckled notebook from his backpack on the table. While Mia and Blake had both went over the contents inside the notebook upon his arrival, there were scribbles and notations that had likely not made any sense to them at that time and could possibly help him convince Mia that he was, in fact, out to do some good, instead of the bad she no doubt thought he was up to.

“It's all in there,” Daryl said gruffly as he pushed the notebook towards Mia. “What I've been doing. How I got here.”

“Yeah, I know,” Mia cut in, annoyance tinging her voice. “I've already been through that, Daryl. I know pretty damned well what you've been doing before you ended up here. I want to know why you did it and what your plans are for this place.”

“Quit interrupting me then,” Daryl growled in response, equally as annoyed as she was. He hated being interrupted. Hell, he didn't speak up often and damned if it wasn't aggravating as shit when what few words he said a day got cut off. “You know where I went. You want to know what I did there, right? Where I took the girls? Well, what am I gonna get in return from you for that information?”

“This isn't a quid pro quo situation, Daryl.” Mia squirmed under his stare, obviously thinking that he wanted something a bit more naughty in return for the information he had that she wanted, but Daryl had no intentions of asking for her body in trade for what his plans were. He should, obviously, because he wanted it, but he wouldn't. He wasn't that type of person. Well, not anymore. Maybe before the outbreak, but not now.

“Ain't everything done in exchange for something else? Especially now? People don't do shit out of the goodness of their hearts, sunshine,” Daryl said in return, pointing out the obvious in life. Everyone wanted something. Didn't matter who you were. Good or bad, everyone wanted something. “I want information, too. I gotta trust you as much as you gotta trust me, right?”

“Fine,” Mia huffed out after a staring session, each one seeing who was going to bend first and no doubt hating that she gave in first. “But, you start. No deals on that, you give me what I want and then, and only then, will I give you anything.”

Jesus Fucking Christ, Daryl thought to himself, mentally willing away the hard on that was pressing painfully against the zipper of his pants. This whole damned conversation was just one big sexual innuendo, for him at least, and he couldn't help but wonder if Mia was thinking the same thing. Once again shoving his dirty thoughts about Mia Carter to the back of his mind, Daryl nodded in agreement to her demands and leaned over to open the notebook to the very beginning of his story.

Pushing the nearby pillar candle closer to the open page, he pointed to the list of names that Nate had scrawled in exchange for medical supplies and alcohol. “That's where it started. Lucy was traded and her sister, Mary, was left with the fucker that killed their dad.” That wasn't where his mission truly began, of course. It had begun all the way back to when the prison had fallen and Lily had been left behind to end up in the clutches of a madman, but Daryl wasn't about to lay all of that on Mia. There was no need for her to know about his Lily and how he had failed her, as the mission could be explained with that part of the story left out, so he moved right past it.

“I found Mary a couple months after the trade when I took out the ones holding her hostage. She told me about her little sister that night, talked me into finding her and bringing her home.” Daryl paused when Mia leaned closer to inspect the section of the page he was pointing to. Her scent wafted over him, strawberries with a hint of womanly musk from the summer heat, and the combination wasn't altogether displeasing. Scooting away from her, he leaned back against the couch and continued, “Took Mary back with me, like the others I'd found. Took them back to where I used to live...to my family.”

“To where you used to live?” Mia inquired with a crinkle in her brow. “Why don't you live there anymore if that's where your family is?”

Of course she would be curious about that. He probably should have left the family part out, but too late now. “Just don't. I stay there occasionally, when I ain't out here.” Uncomfortable, he ran a hand through his sweaty locks and shoved back the bangs that were sticking to his forehead, before explaining where it was exactly that he was talking about. “We got a place north of Atlanta, a lodge. Found it a couple years after the outbreak. I take them there, where they'll be safe, then I head back out.”

He could see she wanted to ask more about why he didn't stay, but that nugget of information really had nothing to do with what they were talking about, so she obviously sat that curiosity aside for the time being. Moving on, Mia flipped through the first few pages of the notebook and asked, “So, that's what you've been doing? You rescue these girls? You don't take them for your own, or...like sell them or something?”

“I just make it so they don't gotta stay with the one's they’re with. That's all.” Daryl lifted a hand to his mouth to satiate some of his anxiety by chewing on the edge of a frayed thumbnail, an old habit that would never be broken. “Just ain't found one that didn't want to go somewhere that was guaranteed to be safe is all. If they'd wanted to go off on their own, they coulda. I didn't make none of them go back with me.”

Mia studied him, silently scrutinizing him for what seemed like an agonizingly long time before finally speaking. With the notebook in her hand, opened up to one of the pages where he had scrawled out a map to one of the locations he had studied before cleaning it out, and asked, “So, you're the hero in this story then?”

“I ain't no hero,” Daryl replied grimly as his heart was pierced with the painful reminder of just how much of a hero he truly wasn't. A hero would have saved the woman he loved, not let her down and watched her die in his arms. Nope, in Daryl's heart, the last thing he would be was a hero. “Ain't never been, ain't never gonna be one. Just doing what's right is all.”

“I don't know about that,” Mia said softly, her hazel eyes warm as she stared at him. Chewing on her plump bottom lip, he could see her mind turning as she dipped her head to flip through the notebook once more to quickly study the entries, before meeting his gaze again. “You've saved what? Like thirty people? And just for their sake? You got nothing out of it? That sounds like a hero to me.”

Yeah, well, it would, Daryl thought to himself. Killing the bad guys, rescuing the innocent? Sure, sounds like the stuff hero novels were written about. But, what Mia didn't know was that he did get something out of it, something he hoped to one day achieve...

Redemption.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the lack of updates lately. I had to put down my 13 year old cat a couple of weeks ago and it just sapped my creativity. Then, last night, I left home and left my USB at home, so I couldn't upload the update when I got to work. Hopefully things will be on track from here on out.

_“I'm coming home again  
And now I know where I belong  
Reeling from my instincts  
'Cause I realize I'm not alone”_

__

_Lacuna Coil “End of Time”_

The house was quiet, but her mind was anything but, as she processed all the information Daryl had provided her with during the past hour or more. Mia could feel the weight of his stare on her as she stared down at the now closed notebook in her hands, but she couldn't bring herself to look up at him just yet. Inside there was a war between her heart and her brain, as they argued over what to do with what the knowledge she had gained. Her brain screamed at her to be logical, that someone as obviously as cunning as Daryl could easily lead her down the wrong path with a fanciful story of rescues and an unlikely hero, but her heart felt said something entirely different. Her heart, the less logical of the two, warmed at the thought of his heroism and had all but decided that Daryl Dixon was the man who was going to help her with her plan to save the girls.

Eyes glued to the coffee table between them, Mia stared at the trickle of melted wax trailing down the side of the largest candle as she chewed on her bottom lip. However, her moment of silent contemplation was broken by Daryl's voice.

“You gonna sit there all night,” he asked, his voice deepened with the exhaustion that tinged his eyes. “Or, you gonna tell me what's going on around here?”

“Sorry, it's just...that was a lot to process.” Mia scrubbed the palms of her hands over her face, before scooting to the edge of her seat and opened her mouth to talk, but she had no idea where to start. Shaking her head, she sighed and said, “I don't know where to begin.”

“What's going on and who's behind it would be a good place.” Daryl leaned forward and snatched his notebook from the table, flipped through it until he found a fresh page and then produced a pen from thin air. He then cocked an eyebrow at her when she didn't immediately start talking.

“There's not really anything going on,” Mia admitted, which earned her a cocked eyebrow from Daryl and a fish eyed glare. Feeling like a child who had been caught in a lie, she tried her best to explain without sounding like a paranoid fool. “There's no real plan or scheme, not that I'm privy to anyway, but I can tell something's up. It's a gut feeling. Call it women's intuition, whatever, but there is definitely something stirring and it's not good. I know it.”

What little confidence Mia had about starting a partnership with Daryl shrank considerably as he glared at her with a stony silence. When he finally broke away from the stare, Mia cringed when he shoved the pen inside the notebook, flipped it shut and tossed it on the couch beside him. Before he could stand up and usher her out of his makeshift bedroom, Mia rushed out what she hoped would be a better explanation.

“They whisper in groups and stop the second I walk in, they've never done that before. I used to be included in plans, but now the only time I get to go into meetings there's always this feeling like they're leaving out something important.” Mia sighed and admitted, “I know I sound like some silly woman making a mountain out of a mole hill for attention, but damn it, they are up to something and it isn't good, Daryl. I feel it in my bones. Gage and his cronies are planning something with those girls and I will be damned if I let it happen, with or without your help.”

“I said I'd help, didn't I?” Daryl growled with obvious frustration coloring his words. “But, shit, woman. You can't expect me to pull this off with nothing but your feelings and some damned good intentions.”

“You think I don't know that?” Mia all but shrieked, equally as frustrated as Daryl, because she had been dealing with this sense of impending doom and a bucket of questions that weren't any closer to being answered. “I know that the higher ups are involved, that's at the very least six men; Gage and five of the higher ranking guys in his circle. I know that they've been making it a point to send groups of at least three guys at a time to scout and for the past two years they've brought in easily six girls. That may not seem like a lot to you, but those girls were brought here for one purpose. Now, I don't know what that's for, but I have overheard two of the guys talking about needing to fluff up the package before delivery and that they needed at least two more to make ten. Neither of them said they needed girls, per say, and they clammed up when they saw me, but it would make sense. We had two girls here already, two sisters that came here with their mom, but she died shortly after they got here. Then add in the other six that they've brought back and that makes eight, so only two more to make the ten they say they need, right?”

“So when's the next run and you got any other info on when this package is supposed to be delivered?” Daryl asked as he leaned over and snatched the previously discarded notebook from the coffee table. Mia's mood brightened, a slight bit of the despair she had felt floated away when he scribbled down some of what she had just told him.

“We've got a group already out.” Mia calculated the weeks in her mind and continued, “They've been gone about a month, sometimes they're gone less and sometimes more. Can't really say when they'll be back. Guess it depends on if they had a plan before they left or if they're flying blind and just hoping to stumble across someone.”

“And the delivery date? What do you got on it?”

“Nothing but more speculation, honestly.” Mia held up a finger for him to wait just a minute and hurriedly jogged upstairs to grab the calendar she kept under her bed. With the severely out of date item in her hand, she descended the stairs as quickly as she had climbed them and plopped down on the couch beside Daryl. “I know it's out of date, but I just use it to mark off days, so I can keep up with how many weeks have passed.”

“Weeks since what?”

“Gage”s big hunting trip. Like, actual hunting. He and his cronies go once a year and stay gone a solid month.” Mia paused as she flipped through the pages until she found the last day marked off and then held that page between her index finger and thumb on her left hand, while lifting the pages to the circled day further into the calendar. Pointing at the day in question, she explained, “I marked off when they should be leaving for the next trip, it's at least close. I think that whatever they're doing will happen then.”

“Okay, so what's your plan? And don't say you don't got one, because you do.” Daryl eyeballed her and made her feel like a bug under a microscope, like he could see past the facade she kept in place, all the way to the truth that laid at her very core.

“They usually send a scout group out first. Four or five guys go ahead, clear the area and then Gage follows a few days later with the rest of them. There's ten in total, including Gage, which you got to have the pleasure of meeting most of them at his house, everyone but the three gone on a run right now. I figure that the package, or the girls, will be taken with the second group.” Mia nervously chewed her lip and laid the calendar on the table, before continuing, “My plan is to get the girls out while the security team is weak. Well, not exactly weak, because Gage would keep his strongest here with him, but weak as in lower numbers. I figure I'd have three, maybe four days, to get the girls out. Wait until everyone is asleep and hopefully smuggle them out through the broken fence where I sneak out.”

“It ain't much of a plan,” Daryl said when she was finished talking, stating the painfully obvious truth. When she opened her mouth to defend her pitiful plan, one that had more holes in it than Swiss cheese, he cut her off and said, “But, we can work with it. How long we got to get ready?”

“If my calculations are right?” Mia paused, as the nervousness in her belly grew from tiny butterflies to full on condors, because she had this feeling that what she was about to tell him wasn't going to please him. “Nine? Maybe ten weeks?”

She was right, of course. Daryl clearly wasn't happy with the time frame she had just given him. The longer time frame meant they weren't as rushed, but it also meant that he was stuck here, with her, for the duration. That was, of course, if he stuck to his word and helped her.

After what seemed like one hundred years of painful silence, he finally spoke. “We'll figure on eight. Hell, probably should figure on less, since we ain't really got no clue when they'll be dealing with this so called package of theirs.”

“So, you're still going to help me?”

“Ain't I already said I was going to?” Daryl growled, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, before scribbling something into his notebook. “We got a lot to figure out. Best you start snooping more, we need more info on what's going down.”

“Yeah, about that. I...I figured maybe you could see what you could find out? I mean, Gage obviously likes you and all, might come in handy?” Mia smiled deviously and said, “You can get into the boy's club a helluva lot easier than I can. I mean, you've got the right equipment and all.”

“How you figure that? Man don't know me enough to like me, probably wouldn't if he did get a chance,” Daryl replied sourly. “He's got a hard-on for you, use it to your advantage. Or, Micah.”

“I've turned him down daily for years, and not exactly subtly either. If I start flirting with him now, he's going to be suspicious. He's changed, sure, but he's not an idiot, Daryl. Gage is smart, real smart, and he will put two and two together real quick,” Mia pointed out, knowing full well she was right on that account. Gage might be happy if she finally gave in to his advances, but once he thought about her sudden change of heart, he would figure out she was up to something-quick, fast and in a hurry. “And, I want to keep Micah out of this as much as I can. He’s got enough problems without me adding this bullshit to it. Gage likes you, or at least he doesn't hate you, you'll have an easier time getting in with him than I will.”

“Hell, I've barely even talked to him, Mia. Except that one night, he ain't barely said three words to me and mostly it's telling me to go chasing after you. So, what gives you any idea that Gage likes me?” Daryl asked, infuriatingly not stepping into line with her plan.

“Because he put you with me. Duh.” Mia pointed out with a roll of her eyes. “He has a thing for me, wants to keep me in line and all. Before you came be-bopping along, Gage never put any of the other guys in here with me, watching me day and night. After talking to you for what, like half a second? He decided to make you my shadow? The woman he thinks he loves? Yeah, if he didn't like you then he wouldn't have done that.”

"That's your reasoning? Shit, woman, this ain't something you stick on someone you like. Guard duty for you ain't all sunshine and roses,” Daryl retorted with a touch of laughter softening the normal gruffness of his voice. “This is definitely a detail for someone you don't like. Hate, maybe, but sure as shit not someone you like.”

“Hey, I'm not that bad. Geez,” Mia protested halfheartedly, knowing full well that she hadn't made the first part of their cohabitation a pleasant experience, but then again, neither had he.

“It ain't just you, sunshine. It's the whole damn thing,” Daryl said, the laughter no present in his tone. He tossed the notebook onto the table once more and continued, “Guard duty ain't fun, no matter who you're watching. But, I'm watching what he considers his woman, don't matter if you are or not. I fuck this up? That's my ass. Gage's done made it clear that if you get so much as a splinter in your finger I get my ass handed to me. You get worse than a splinter? I get dead. That ain't something you do to someone you like.”

“No, it's what you do to someone you're testing,” Mia challenged. “And, he's testing you for a reason. Be it that he likes you or he's just bored and having fun, but either way, it gives you a chance that I don't have. Plus,” Mia paused and felt her cheeks heat up at the thought of what she was about to say, “You won't have to fuck him for information. I will, and I have no intentions of fucking him or anyone else around here, so it's either you or we go about this blind.”

The heat in her cheeks intensified as Daryl studied her, his blue eyes less icy than they typically were. Thankfully, he didn't delve further into the topic of her sexual intentions, because Mia was certain that if Daryl even got a hint of the handful of highly improper sexual fantasies she had entertained about him over the past few weeks, she would shrivel up and die of embarrassment. Fantasies were normal, everyone had them, but damn if she was going to share them with the man that had played a starring role in them.

Instead of turning the conversation towards the topic of fucking, Daryl merely nodded his head in agreement and conceded to her plan of action. “Fine, we'll play it your way. I'll see what I can get out of him. If I can't get nothing out of him though, we'll have to figure out something else. Something you may not like much.”

“And we can discuss that if and when the time comes,” Mia agreed, her stomach churning at the thought of having to throw away her morals to save the life of someone else. “But, for now, you do what you can and I'll keep my ear to the ground.”

Pushing off the sofa, she grabbed the calendar off the coffee table and turned to leave. But, before heading off to bed, Mia glanced back at Daryl and said, “Thank you.”

“Don't thank me yet, sunshine. We ain't nowhere close to getting out of here safely.”

“No, but we will be. I can feel it,” Mia replied with more confidence than she'd had in a long time. She had no idea what she was going to do with the group after getting them out of dodge, but that was a step to deal with later. If all went well, maybe Daryl would at least take the girls back with him. If she was left behind, then that was something she would have to accept. Right now, it was their safety was all that mattered. “Goodnight, Daryl.” Without giving him time to argue the point, she turned and headed towards the foyer to go to bed with a glimmer of hope in her heart.


	29. Chapter 29

_"Now the dark begins to rise  
Save your breath, it's far from over  
Leave the lost and dead behind  
Now's your chance to run for cover"_

__

Breaking Benjamin "I Will Not Bow"

The next morning, long before even the sun was fully awake, Daryl sat on the front porch and watched as the midnight blue sky of night became streaked with burnt orange as the sun slowly made its ascent into the sky. He had barely managed a few hours of sleep, maybe a handful of restless tossing and turning on the stiff couch cushions, before giving up and getting up for the day. While he had never been one to need a full night's sleep, what he had achieved last night wasn't even enough for him. But, the stress of his life had been bound to catch up with him at some point, disguised as insomnia.

While he had wanted to keep talking to Mia the night before, picking her brain for information that she might not be aware her mind held and hashing out the details of their pitiful excuse for a plan, he had seen the stifled yawns and bleary eyed expression on her face as the night had worn on. She was on the edge of burnout, that much was evident to him, but Daryl wondered if Mia was aware of just how thin she was wearing herself between caring for Micah, the girls, and the stress of whatever shady dealing she was worried about. So, for her sake, he had let Mia end their conversation far earlier than what he had wanted, figuring they could always pick up where they had left whenever she woke up.

He fully believed her gut instincts that screamed something shady was being planned, that much he had already figured out on his own, but like Mia, he was at a loss as to what was being brewed behind closed doors. Whomever was in charge was doing a damn fine job at keeping a lid on conversation, as he had heard absolutely nothing in the time that he had been at the compound, even the night at Gage's when the alcohol that was flowing should have provided a nice dose of loose lips, too. Of course, being tied to Mia day in and day out had left him absolutely zero time to himself to investigate, but according to their plan last night, that was about to change. Daryl just had no fucking clue as to how he was going to go about making friends with Gage, much less a relationship that was tight enough that the man would spill whatever secrets he was clearly guarding close to the chest.

Daryl's social skills weren't exactly on par with making best buds with a stranger overnight, much less making it easy for him to cozy up to the leader of the place and get the man to trust him enough to bring him into the fold completely. Had Mia not burned the bridge with Gage a few weeks back, kicking the man in the nuts and drawing a line in the sand in regards to their childhood friendship when Gage had tried to kiss her, Daryl had no doubt that she could have slithered in and batted her eyelashes at him a few times and gotten every last one of the man's secrets out in the open. But, that course of action was not an option now, seeing as how the two had barely said two words to one another since that day. He hated to admit it to Mia, but she was right when she said that doing a one eighty and flirting with Gage would do nothing but arouse his suspicions, but damn it, the woman was right.

Just as the first full rays of the morning sun flickered over the top of the roof across the street, Daryl heard the sound of the doorknob twisting open and craned his head around in time to see Mia step out onto the porch. As was common lately, exhaustion tinted the area below her tired eyes and let him know that she hadn't gotten much sleep during the night either.

“Mornin',” he mumbled as she sank down onto the stoop beside him, her long legs already encased in tight fitting blue jeans tucked into a pair of camouflage hiking boots. Dirt stained the knees of the light blue denim, reminding him that she had mentioned gardening when she woke up, despite the pathetic state of the crops as of late. “Don't look like you slept much.”

“Probably more than you, but no, not a lot.” Mia rubbed the palms of her hands on the worn thighs of her jeans, before leaning forward with her elbows balanced just above her knees. “Had a lot on my mind. Kind of thought our talk last night would ease some of my worried thoughts, but I think it just added to them.”

“We still got a lot to cover,” Daryl pointed out, glancing over at her out of the corner of his eye. A few strands of honey colored locks had either already escaped the ponytail she had the rest of her hair pulled up into or she had missed the wayward strands altogether. Either way, she was still attractive despite the exhaustion on her features and mussed hairdo, a feat that most women couldn't pull off before the outbreak, despite afterwards. Forcing away the thoughts of her attractiveness, something he hadn't thought Mia was back in the early days when he had stupidly thought her features were plain, Daryl focused on finishing the conversation they had started the night before. “You, uh...you wanting me to take them back to where I take the others? Or you got something else planned?”

“I really haven't thought that far,” Mia admitted. “I figured once I got them out I could go from there, but even I knew that plan was stupid. So, yeah, if you have the room, that'd be great. Right now it's just the eight girls, plus Blake and Mae, unless they bring in more. So, ten for sure.”

“Uh, twelve,” Daryl said, correcting her tally and earning a confused glance in return. “You and Micah, plus the others. Makes twelve, minimum. Don't matter though, we got the room. Even if my group brought in others, we got plenty of room.” Hell, there was at least two hundred rooms, doubling up they could fit four hundred people easy. Not that that he would want them to, personally, but it was possible if they had to do so.

“Micah and I won't be going,” Mia said softly, cutting her gaze away from him to look down the road in the opposite direction.

“The hell you won't,” Daryl growled, annoyance with the woman slithering back over him to fit as comfortably as it had during their first few weeks together. The hell he'd go through all of this to walk away and leave her and Micah behind. “What? You got some other place to be?”

“No, it's not like that.” Mia sighed and Daryl heard the hitch of emotion in the breathy sound. She turned back to look at him and chewed on her plump lower lip before continuing, “Micah's in no shape to go anywhere, Daryl. You've seen him. He can barely walk from one end of the town to the other, much less hike all the way past Atlanta. It makes more sense to get you and the others out and for us to stay. This way I can lead Gage and them in the opposite direction if they decide to go after you.”

“Absolutely the fuck not,” Daryl ground out, somehow managing to not scream out his frustrations at Mia, even though he desperately wanted to do so...while shaking some sense into her. “I ain't left no one behind and I don't fucking plan on starting now.”

“But,” Mia started, but Daryl's growl of anger cut her off and left her hazel eyes wide, but didn't keep her quiet for long. “Daryl, stop and think for half a damned second. You won't be letting us down, it's our choice. Micah is sick, he can't make that trek. And, I'm not going without him, so don't even go there.”

“So, you're just gonna sacrifice yourself then?” Daryl pushed off the stoop in anger and took a few steps down the walkway, needing to put distance between himself and Mia before he literally grabbed hold of her and tried to shake some sense into her. Hands on his hips, he stood deathly still and stared up at the sky silently. When he finally felt a modicum of control, he turned back to face Mia and pointed out the flaw in her plan. “Great. You stay here and then what? What happens when Micah dies and you're alone? What then? Because he ain't making it much longer. You and I both know it.”

“If that's what I have to do, then yeah...I'll risk it to save the girls. To save Blake and Mae from Gage, or whoever is behind this. Because when that person wakes up and realizes his property is gone, the shit is going to hit the fan and I don't want them anywhere near it,” Mia replied stubbornly, doing absolutely nothing to calm the rage boiling in Daryl's veins. “I can deal with the consequences of my choices, but I refuse to let anyone else suffer from them.”

“And Micah? If he makes it that long, what's he gonna have to deal with?”

“He won't know,” Mia replied, pushing off the stoop to stand in front of him. Daryl could tell by the hard set of her chin, the gold tint to her hazel eyes and the way her arms folded beneath the swell of her chest that, at least for the time being, she was dead set in being a defiant ass. Time could change that...no, it would change that, because there was no other option in Daryl's play book. Mia and her brother were not being left behind to deal with the fallout, didn't matter if she had a hand in the decisions or not.

“And how the hell are you gonna keep him from finding out, sweetheart?” Daryl ground out in a less than pleasant tone, his voice full of gravel and grit as the irritation towards the pigheaded woman in front of him won out and took away all of the reasonable reactions he could possibly use to deal with her. “The man is sick, but he don't seem to be stupid. We're planning this under his nose, he'll figure it out.”

“Then we just have to be better at hiding it from him, damn it,” Mia hissed, not in fazed in the slightest at the angry tone of his voice. She didn't shy away from his gruff demeanor, something that few people were capable of doing. Daryl wasn't quite sure if that was a turn on at the moment or not, but he thought it might be. He had no use for weak willed people. “We'll be sneakier. Talk in private, either in lower voices or hell, we can find somewhere to be alone long enough to make plans. I don't want him hurt by my plans, you hear me? Micah has enough problems, without me adding to them. He knows nothing, that way, in the end...he honestly had plausible deniability. Whatever it takes, Daryl. I want him to be as far away from this as possible.”

“Fine,” Daryl spit back in return to her demand, begrudgingly accepting her terms for the time being. She wanted big brother to be in the dark? Sure, he could do that. It'd be hard, but he had dealt with tougher operations before. But, he'd be damned if this was the last discussion they had about her and Micah leaving the compound with the rest of them when the time came. Didn't matter if Mia wanted to go or not, if it came down to it he would toss her ass over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. There was no damned way in Hell he was leaving this place without her and Micah. If they had to take the trip at a slower pace to accommodate Micah's declining health, then that's what they would do. But, he knew that arguing the point at the moment was going to accomplish nothing, so he let it drop for the time being.

“Okay, good,” Mia said slowly, almost uncertainly, at his response. After a brief pause, she grinned slyly at him and asked, “Now, I'm hungry. You want to raid the food storage? We're pretty short on rations here.”

“After you,” Daryl said, gesturing towards the closed gate at the end of the walkway. As Mia walked past him, he fell in line behind her in search of food. Like he'd said before, he'd never left a man behind, wasn't likely to start doing so now.


	30. Chapter 30

_“I'd suffer for you, Would you suffer for me?  
Feel our affliction set us free  
The kind of hurt that we both need  
I'd suffer for you, Would you suffer for me?”_

__

New Year's Day “Suffer”

As another day came to an end, Daryl followed Mia down the sidewalk with the sun setting over their shoulders. Although their trek back home was done so in silence, Daryl could tell she was aggravated without needing her to speak the words. He knew she had hoped to glean some sort of information from Gage during the meal, hence her acceptance of his peace offering in the form of dinner. The two of them had spoken very little since the morning of their fight when Mia had expressed her displeasure over Gage assigning Daryl to be her personal security guard, but she had finally broken down an given in to his numerous attempts to breach the gaping hole in their friendship over the past few weeks. Unfortunately, it seemed to Daryl that exactly the opposite had happened during the excruciatingly uncomfortable meal.

At first, it had seemed as though Gage had truly wanted to get back into Mia's good graces; pulling out her chair, letting her talk without interrupting with his patronizing tone, and even listening to Mia's opinions on changes around the compound. But, with each bite of roasted meats and vegetables eaten, the self-imposed leader of the community had let his true nature slip through and by the end of dinner, Gage had pissed Mia off with his overbearing nature and demanding attitude. After the last straw, in the form of yet another persuasion on Gage's part to get Mia to move in with him, the fiery brunette had tossed her drink directly into the face of her longtime friend and cursed the man up one side and down the other, before storming out of the house with Daryl in tow.

Clearly, sending Mia in to soften Gage up in order to get information out of him was definitely not the best course of action. In fact, by the time they got to the gate to their house, Daryl had decided that keeping Mia as far away from Gage was one of his goals in life, only slightly less important that their plan to get the kids to safety.

As they turned down the sidewalk to the house, Daryl hated to see the defeated expression on Mia's face, made only more depressing by the shadows the setting sun cast across her features. He was man enough to admit that the fiery explosion of her personality tossing a drink into Gage's face was a turn on, but also enough to admit to himself that he hated seeing anything resembling sadness on her face as well. When the feelings he had for Mia had shifted from annoyance to tolerance to protectiveness he was exactly sure, but things had changed and that fact scared the shit out of him.

Before they got to the door and inside the house where her brother undoubtedly was since he hadn't been at dinner, Daryl reached out and touched Mia on the arm to get her attention. When she paused and glanced over her shoulder at him, he asked, “You okay?”

He had meant to ask about their next step in the plan, since she didn't want to talk about it when Micah could over hear, but somehow those questions had been brushed aside long enough to ask how she was doing. When Daryl peered closer at her expression and caught sight of the tears sparkling ever so slightly in her hazel eyes, he knew that she most certainly was not okay, despite the fact that Mia most likely wouldn't admit it to him.

“I'm fine,” she replied, her voice faint, but full of the unhappiness her posture and teary eyed gaze clearly showed him. “Just tired, is all.”

“Bullshit,” Daryl retorted gruffly. Eyeballing her wearily in the semi-darkness, he added, “We're all tired, but that ain't what's got you upset.”

“Of course it's not.” Mia sighed and rolled her eyes at him, before adding, “You were there tonight, you know what the problem is, so what's the point in asking? Quit beating around the bush with small talk and just say whatever it is you're wanting to say.”

“Fine. I don't want you around him no more,” Daryl blurted out, annoyed that Mia had called him out on the small talk bullshit, something he had never really dabbled in before and had no clue why he felt the need to do it now with Mia. Being blunt was part of his personality and damned if he knew why that aspect was floundering now. And, shit, hearing the jealous ass protective tone of his demands didn't help his mood none in the slightest, he just hoped that Mia didn't pick up on it and say something.

“I have no problem with that,” Mia agreed without argument, surprising the both of them no doubt. Thankfully, she either didn't pick up on the tone of his demand or was ignoring it, either way was just fine for Daryl and saved him the embarrassment of being called out on it. Mia sighed and added, “He wasn't always like that, you know? Or, hell, maybe he was and I just didn't realize it? Shit, if I know. Either way, that’s not the Gage I grew up with. I have no issue with not being around him ever again, if that’s the kind of person he’s going to be. I just thought that maybe, just maybe, something would change tonight and help us in the long run.”

“Yeah, well, ain't no sense in worrying about it no more. Safer if you just stay out of his way altogether. He's obsessed with you and lashing out, being around him ain't a good option. Way you are with pissing him off? Ain't too much longer 'til he realizes that screaming ain't doing nothing to change how you're acting towards him. Man's full of anger and sooner than later, he's gonna focus it on you.” Daryl took a step forward and plopped down on the steps of the porch and motioned for her to join him. When Mia sat down beside him, he continued on with the original question he had intended on asking her. “So, what's the next step? I can talk to Gage when I can, whenever I can get around him without you, but that ain't likely to happen much. He expects me to be with you all the time and all.”

“There'll be another get together at his house when the scavenging group returns, which in theory, should be soon. He'll ask you to it, most likely.” Mia leaned forward and placed her forearms on her thighs, letting her hands dangle between them, and stared out towards the night sky with a look of utter dejection on her face. “I dunno, Daryl. Maybe we should just try to sneak them out one night? It probably wouldn't be that hard, right? The girls are old enough to know to be quiet and not wander off. Hardest part would be getting them across town to that fence that's broken at the back of the neighborhood without getting caught.”

“Whenever you want to do it, just let me know,” Daryl replied, readily accepting her plan, because in all honesty, the only plan he had ever made before rescuing the people in the past had been to kill everyone he had to in order to do so. Stealthily sneaking out that many people under the cover of darkness would be difficult as shit, but they could do it. “Be easier when half of Gage's men are gone, less people to take out if I have to.”

“I know it's completely naive to think that we could do this without anyone dying, but damn it, I really don't want any more blood on my hands, Daryl,” Mia admitted softly, staring down at the hands that dangled between her thighs as though she could actually see the blood of the people she'd had to kill over the years. He had no doubt that the deaths on her hands were far less than the ones on his, but anyone with a conscience would have those deaths weighing heavily on it no matter how many there were.

“I ain't talking about killing everyone that's not with us, but if they get in our way there ain't no other choice, right? If it means us or them, the choice ain't a hard one.” Daryl pointed out the truth that neither one of them could deny, but the slight shake of Mia's head in agreement made him feel a bit better about what might have to be done in the end.

“Give it a few more weeks,” Mia said after a moment, head still bowed and voice sadly soft spoken. “Wait and see if the other team comes back with any other kids. That way you won't leave anyone behind. If they don't come back before Gage and the others leave on their hunting trip, then there's nothing we can do.”

“Even if we wait, I'll still be leaving someone behind,” Daryl pointed out, still set on changing Mia's mind about her and Micah leaving with him. While he understood that Micah was sick and likely wouldn't survive such a long trek, he couldn't find any understanding in leaving them behind for Mia to be left alone with Gage when her brother eventually succumbed to whatever illness was eating him alive. “We can make it work. Take shorter walks, letting him rest, whatever he needs. Better than leaving you here, ain't it?”

“Daryl, focus on the kids, okay? It'll be easier that way,” Mia snapped, pushing off the porch step faster than Daryl had anticipated she would. Her hand was on the doorknob, pushing open the front door, before he could reach her to argue with her hardheaded logic.

Quickly, Daryl closed the space between them and covered her hand with his, pulling the door shut and earning a muttered curse of annoyance in response from Mia. “Why you fighting me on this? You want to be left alone with Gage when Micah dies?” His questions were harsh, but necessary and even Mia knew it judging by the way her hand relaxed beneath his on the doorknob.

“I don't want Micah to have to suffer through a long trip. You know that, so you're the one that needs to stop fighting me, Daryl.” While her voice was strong, unwavering in the decision that she no doubt felt was the right one, but even in the shadows of the slowly approaching night, Daryl could see fear in her eyes at the thought of being left behind with Gage. As though she could sense what he could see in her gaze, Mia glanced over his shoulder and continued, “What I need is irrelevant. I don't matter. Getting those girls, Blake and Mae, to safety is what matters. Micah's comfort matters. Not me.”

“You matter,” Daryl said in return, trying his best to catch her gaze. Instead of allowing her eyes to meet his, Mia tried to tug her hand out from beneath his on the doorknob, but Daryl held on and fought his own fears at the notion of getting close to another person and laying his cards out on the proverbial table in regards to those feelings. But, if showing his hand would mean eventually saving Mia from Gage's control, he would have to suck it up and get over his fear of letting someone in. “Damn it, Mia, you matter. You matter to them girls. You matter to Mae and you damn well matter to Blake. You just gonna let them hurt when you're left here for Gage to do God knows what to you? How do you think they're gonna feel when they know you sacrificed yourself for them when you damned well didn't have to? You fucking matter, don't you get it?”

Silence weighed between them once more, but this time there was an uncomfortable awareness that slithered in and made the air around them thick and hard to breathe. Daryl could feel his heart hammering away in his chest, anger and another emotion that he damned well didn't want and hadn't asked for caused the fear of leaving Mia behind and losing her to claw at him inside. He relaxed his hold on her hand, now that she was no longer fighting against his grasp, and rejoiced when Mia finally met his gaze, thinking he might just be making some headway in the argument, but damn it to hell if she didn't take that moment of relaxation to push open the door instead.

“Stop arguing with me on this, damn it,” she hissed as she angrily pushed open the door and stepped over the threshold into the house, dark except for a few flickering candles that either Micah or Blake had lit in their absence. Mia spared one final look of exasperated anger towards him, before stalking across the foyer and stomping up the stairs.

Daryl had his mouth open to curse loudly in her direction, when a figure stepped out of the shadows of the living room and scared the shit out of him. Smothering a scream, because he had already acted like a damned weak ass while arguing with Mia and showing her the emotions he didn't even want himself, Daryl took a position of defense before realizing who the person coming towards him was.

“Now that you're done arguing with my sister for the night, think we could talk?” Micah Carter asked with exhaustion etched on his face, as well as coloring his speech.

“Yeah, about what?”

“What's going on between you and Mia, among other things,” Micah said as they took opposite facing seats in the living room.

“Uh, what makes you think something's going on with me and Mia?” Daryl asked, leaning back against the cushions of the couch with a nonchalance that he certainly didn't feel inside.

Micah mimicked Daryl's nonchalant stance by leaning back in the armchair across from him. However, one glance showed that the elder Carter sibling was actually somewhat at ease, whereas Daryl Dixon was anything but as Micah spoke, ““I'm dying, Daryl. I'm not stupid.”


	31. Chapter 31

_"No one gets out alive, every day is do or die.  
The one thing you leave behind.  
Is how did you love, how did you love?  
It's not what you believe; those prayers will make you bleed.  
But while you're on your knees.  
How did you love, how did you love, how did you love?"_

__

_Shinedown "How Did You Love?"_

Since the night that the newcomer in town had been shoved into their home, Micah Carter had watched closely as his sister had slowly warmed to the stranger; a piece of her armor chipping away piece by piece with each passing day. Sure, Daryl still got on Mia's nerves at least once a day, but the sarcastic remarks and hate filled glares between the two of them had lessened significantly over the past few weeks. At first, Micah had thought that maybe his sister had finally developed feelings for someone other than the husband her heart refused to let go of and was having a difficult time adjusting to that experience. Despite his role as the big brother, albeit only by six and a half minutes, Micah had honestly hoped his suspicions were correct. He wasn't stupid. He was dying, that much was a given, and Micah knew that it wasn't long before his number would be up and death would claim him. He just wished that he wasn't going to leave his sister behind with no one to take care of her and keep her safe.

Obviously, Mia would still have Blake and Mae, but a chicken shit twenty-something and a woman that was more than old enough to be their mom wasn't much in the way of protection. Blake could offer that shoulder to lean on that Mia needed from time to time, and Mae would be there to comfort her and heal her wounds, but Micah wanted someone to protect his little sister. He needed someone brave enough to keep her safe and someone stubborn enough to not put up with her shit and for half a second, Micah had thought he'd found that man in Daryl Dixon, but the budding relationship he thought he saw between the two of them was obviously something entirely different than what he originally suspected.

Micah couldn't say what it was that changed his mind, especially since the tension between them that originally caught his eye was still very much present, but whatever was going on between Mia and Daryl was not the love connection he had hoped it would be. A shame, really, since he honestly thought they complemented one another fairly well. Not that either one of them would admit it, both being bull headed beyond belief.

Alone in the house they all shared, Micah relaxed downstairs in the living room and enjoyed a brief moment of reprieve from the pain that had become an everyday occurrence as of late. While it was still there, lying in wait to tear him apart from the inside, for the moment it was a dull ache just behind his right eyeball. Annoying, nauseating and unpleasant, but overall, manageable for the time being. Slouched down in the blue plaid recliner in the corner of the room, Micah rested the back of his head against the cushion and relaxed in the quiet, both in the room and in his head, as the dark of night slowly took over the light of day.

However, the moment of silent relief didn't last nearly long enough for his liking, as the sound of Mia's angry voice slipped through the cracked open window on the front of the house. Daryl's gravelly voice, on the other hand, was low enough to barely make itself known above Mia's, although what little of his part of the conversation that did manage to make it to Micah's ears sounded as equally upset as Mia's. Curious, Micah slid from the recliner and padded barefoot across the living room to eavesdrop by the open window next to the couch where Daryl slept at night.

“You fucking matter, don't you get it?” Daryl's voice made its way into the house easily that time, the gravel and grit in the tone giving away the emotion in his question.

Leaning against the wall, one shoulder on the poor choice of wallpaper that someone had made long before the outbreak was even a possibility, Micah wondered what the argument was about and cursed himself for not going to dinner when invited, figuring something that happened there was the cause for whatever was going on between Mia and Daryl at the moment. However, the relatively pain free nap he had managed to catch instead had been something he needed more, as a restful night's sleep was just a fond memory these days.

“Stop arguing with me on this, damn it,” Mia hissed back in return, the tone in her voice equally as annoyed and fired up as Daryl's, before the sound of the door opening silenced the argument between them. As Mia stomped across the foyer, each step of her boots against the wood echoing in the too quiet room, Daryl stood in the open door and glared at her as she ran up the stairs. Micah watched the emotions play out on Daryl's face, annoyance, frustration and another that looked like sadness to Micah.

Before Daryl either took off in the opposite direction or caught him spying on their argument, Micah stepped out of the shadows and made his presence known and caught Daryl off guard, a shriek of surprise clearly on the tip of his tongue. “Now that you're done arguing with my sister for the night, think we could talk?”

“Yeah, about what?” Daryl asked curiously, a bone deep distrust for the majority of mankind evident not only in the questioning tone of his voice, but in his squinty eyed glare, too.

“What's going on between you and Mia, among other things,” Micah replied as he reclaimed the recliner he'd been sitting in moments before, relaxing into the cushions with an unintended sigh of exhaustion.

“Uh, what makes you think something's going on with me and Mia?” Daryl asked, either used to Micah's half alive appearance and exhaustion or not caring in the slightest about the man's failing health as he leaned back against the cushions with an air of nonchalance and kicked the heel of one boot up on the coffee table.

“I'm dying, Daryl. I'm not stupid.” Micah replied with an air of the same nonchalance Daryl was exuding, his words obviously catching Daryl off guard judging by the flicker of surprise in his indigo gaze. “It's a bit too quiet around here to be arguing outside, even if you try to do it quietly someone’s bound to hear it. What's got Mia so upset this time? Gage do something at dinner or did you piss her off?”

“Both, I guess,” Daryl replied, crossing his arms over his chest as his gaze slithered to the side to glare at the brick hearth that someone had painted white a long time ago and was now peeling to show the dark brown color beneath.

“Is she okay? He didn't hurt her, did he?” Micah inquired, more than ready to march down the roadway to Gage's house and stick a boot up his ass, despite Mia making him promise to not do exactly that several weeks ago. Didn't matter if he was sick, didn't matter if the man used to be one of his best friends, if Gage kept treating Mia the way he had been doing Micah was more than ready to have it out with the man, dying or not.

“No more than usual,” Daryl finally replied, although still not meeting Micah's gaze, which told him that the man across from him wasn't telling the whole truth.

“I hope you'll tell me if that changes,” Micah said, his voice cold with intent, “He may have been one of my best friends years ago, but the man lays a hand on my sister and I'll gut him like a fish. Mia made me promise I wouldn't start anything, always the peace maker, believe it or not, but I won't stand by and let him hurt her.”

“Peace maker? Pfft, sure, that's Mia.” Daryl snorted at the thought of Mia matching that description and added, “More like an aggravating, pig headed shit that won't listen to no one but her damned self.”

“I take it you mean she won't listen to you?” Micah couldn't help the slight lift to the corner of his mouth as laughter tugged at his lips. Sure, Mia wasn't exactly known for her smooth approach or calm demeanor, but at the end of the day she meant well and only wanted to make the world a better place for the people she cared about. Sometimes her methods just didn't go over the way she planned them. “Tell me what's going on, Daryl. I deserve to know if she's in danger.”

He could see the indecision in his mind as each and every emotion played out in Daryl's expression as he fought an internal war over what was right and wrong. Mia had obviously asked Daryl not to tell him what was going on, either to save him unnecessary worry or to keep him from getting hurt, but whatever her reasoning was infuriating either way. He was sick, sure, but he wasn't dead yet. He still had several tricks up his sleeve, he just had to know where and who to use them on.

“I can help, Daryl, don't let her tell you otherwise.” Micah scooted to the edge of the seat and propped his forearms up on his thighs, leaning closer towards Daryl. “If she's in trouble, I need to know.”

“She don't want you to know,” Daryl finally replied after what seemed like an agonizingly long period of silence. He shook his head, causing his shaggy brown hair to fall even further into his eyes and said, “I told her I wouldn't tell.”

“Yeah, Mia likes to do that. Keep shit from me so I don't get upset, like I'm that damned fragile.” Micah snorted and reached out to grab hold of the pack of matches on the coffee table, striking one to light the scattering of candles on the pale wood. “She's always done shit like that. Hell, she used to do that to all of us; me, Gage, Brian. Usually it was if one of them had done something she knew would piss me off, or something she'd done, typically. Always trying to keep the waters smooth, could never stand a fight. Oh, don't get me wrong, she's more than happy to jump in fists first, but only if that was the last option.”

Micah paused long enough to push back the long hair that had escaped his ponytail to lay against the sweaty skin of his face, the illness and the warm, humid night making his skin clammy. “You have sisters, Daryl?”

“Nah, older brother.”

“Consider yourself lucky. I love her and all, can't imagine my life without her, but damn it if they aren't the most manipulative little shits,” Micah smiled softly as he remembered a handful of times when Mia had done something she wasn't supposed to and had someone managed to convince their father that he had actually done whatever it was instead. “You know, she married my best friend, Brian. Mae's son. They grew up together, too, but weren't ever as close as she was with Gage. Anyway, they eloped one night when he was on leave from deployment and visiting his family. Hadn't ever dated that I know of, but somehow ended up hitched and she managed to talk him into keeping it from all of us for damned near half a year, just because she thought I'd be mad. That's just how she is.”

“And was you? Mad?” Daryl asked around the chewed edge of his thumbnail as he gnawed on it furiously, an obvious sign that something was bothering him. In just the short amount of time Daryl had been living with them, Micah had picked up on what he did when he was anxious and nail biting was the biggest tale.

“At first, yeah. Eventually? Nah. They were good for each other.” Micah felt the sting of sadness in his eyes at the thought of his childhood best friend and for the umpteenth time since the outbreak, he wished that Brian hadn't been half a world away everything had fallen apart. Shaking off the morose thoughts, Micah focused his attention on the task at hand once more, pinned Daryl with a pleading gaze and asked again, “Tell me. Please? I just want to help my sister, Daryl. I know she needs it, whether she’ll ask for it or not.”  
Micah literally held his breath while waiting for Daryl’s response and relief washed over him like a cool splash of water on a hot summer day when his request was granted. He could see the indecision on Daryl’s face, clearly painted on his features despite how hard the man was trying to hide behind his shaggy locks. 

“She finds out I told you,” Daryl started, drifting off without finishing the statement, because both of them knew damned well how happy Mia would be when she found out he spilled her secrets. But, even knowing the wrath he would have to face when that time came, Daryl was clearly smart enough to know that they needed all the help they could get and spilled the secret that Mia was desperately trying to keep from her older brother. 

Sitting stone cold still in his seat, Micah listened as Daryl explained the situation and the problems they were facing, all of which upset him, but not as much as the part where she refused to go with the group when Daryl smuggled them to safety. Guilt filled his stomach, weighing heavily in the pit of his gut like a hundred pound stone knowing that Mia was correct…that he wasn’t strong enough to make the trek all the way back to Lake Lanier Lodge, just east of Atlanta. However, he would be damned if he would let her stay behind and miss out on her chance at safety, just to stay behind and wait for him to die. 

“I figured something was up with the girls, but I wasn’t sure if it was real or something I’d imagined,” Micah finally said, admitting to Daryl the exact state of the illness eating away at his mind. Some days were seated more in reality than others, and lately, those days were becoming few and far between. “Gage won’t talk to Mia about it, that’s for sure. He’s too damned focus on doing…well, other things with Mia. Don’t figure he’ll talk to you either, being new and all. I’ll see what I can find out.” Micah paused and licked his dry, cracked lips, before adding, “You gotta promise me something, Daryl. If I help, if I stick my neck out and go to Gage for information, I need something from you.”

“What’s that?”

“Make sure she’s safe. Get her out of her, whether she wants to go or not, but make her leave when it’s time.” Micah leaned forward in the seat once more, his entire body aching and exhausted from a day of literally doing nothing at all. “Knock her over the goddamned head, toss her over your shoulder and leave. Don’t look back, don’t let her argue about me. Just go. She’s all that matters to me.”

“Deal,” Daryl agreed, far quicker than what Micah had thought he would, which let him know that the man cared for his sister more than what he showed. 

“Good,” Micah smiled, despite the predicament they were in and pushed out of the chair with the intent on going to bed. He paused before leaving the room completely and glanced back at Daryl and said, “Take care of her for me. She’s going to need someone when I’m gone.”

 

“She ain’t gonna want that,” Daryl said, stating the obvious, but added, “I’ll do what I can.”

“That’s all I ask.” Micah bid Daryl a goodnight and headed upstairs, more than a little overwhelmed at the project he had signed himself up for and yet, eagerly anticipating doing more than just existing like he had been doing as of late. Getting Gage to talk about whatever nefarious plans he had working in the background was going to be about as simple as feeding a rabid honey badger, but if everything went to shit at least he had a plan in motion for Mia. Because, at the end of the day, it didn’t matter if it was the sickness or his childhood friend that killed him, to Micah the only thing that mattered to Micah was her safety.

 


	32. Chapter 32

_“It's hopeless, the end will come and wash it all away  
Forsaken, I live for those I lost along the way  
And I can't remember how it all began to break  
You suffer, I live to fight and die another day.”_

__

Breaking Benjamin “Fade Away”

The heat at lunch was so oppressive that the chores for the day had been suspended for the moment, as nothing would get done if the workers in the field and elsewhere around the compound passed out from heat stroke. It was better to take a break than suffer the alternative. Something that Mia had pointed out to Gage in passing after the morning gardening session had ended with Emily threw up her breakfast in the bushes, which probably had more to do with the early stages of her pregnancy than the heat, but it was better to err on the side of caution just in case. To say that she had been shocked when Gage had agreed with her suggestion was an understatement and Mia was quite certain that he had only agreed to do so in hopes of getting back in her good graces, which was not likely to happen, but she had taken the olive branch and used it to give the hard workers in the community a much needed day of rest.

Now though, she had nothing to do to keep her mind occupied as she sat on the front porch, bored out of her mind and dripping with sweat. Her clothes were plastered to her sweat slicked skin and her hair was slicked back in an unflattering ponytail. Miserable was the only way to describe the way she felt at the moment. Top the icky feeling with boredom and a side of aggravation at the fact that the mediocre plan she and Daryl had hatched damn near two weeks ago, and one could say that the mood she was currently in was only a few degrees away from volatile.

Huffing with frustration, she plopped a washcloth into the bucket of semi-cool water at her feet and lifted her head back to wipe it over her face and neck in a feeling that bordered on sheer delight. If the water in the bucket was a few degrees cooler, or rather, filled with ice cubes, she would no doubt be moaning with pleasure at the feeling of the water on her overheated skin. But, sadly, the best she could do was somewhat cool water from the kitchen sink. It was better than nothing, after all.

The boards on the porch creaked as it shifted beneath the weight of whomever had joined her on the porch, an action that normally would have Mia whipping her head around while simultaneously reaching for her pistol, but the way her mood was at the moment, she did neither and simply continued to wipe down her sweat glistened skin with the washcloth in hopes of seeking some relief from the heat.

“Come on. Get up,” Daryl said from a distance far too close for her to not have heard the clomp of his boots on the porch after he came out of the house, but she had come to learn that the man moved like a ninja. Quietly efficient. It should have been unnerving, but for some reason it was not.

Cracking one eye to glance at him, her brow furrowed in confusion and she asked, “Why? It's too hot to move. Just let me sit here and melt in peace.”

“Ain't no sense in sitting here sweating when there's that big pond that ain't being used,” Daryl replied, knowing full well the mention of her favorite swimming hole would get her off her ass faster than anything else he could offer her at the moment.

“Shit, you should have started with that.” Mia dropped the now warm piece of cloth into the bucket, causing water to slosh over the edges and spill onto the tops of her bare feet, before she shoved on the sneakers she had taken off before sitting down earlier. “Let me go grab my suit. Five minutes!”

With all the delight of five year old on Christmas morning, Mia darted past Daryl and into the house in search of the bikini hanging on the doorknob of her bedroom door. Half-way up the stairs, Micah's bedroom door opened and he stepped out into the hallway, no doubt to see who was stomping through the house and why they were making so much noise. Her brother's health was rapidly declining, a fact that no one could protest, and he spent most of his days locked in his bedroom asleep. Judging by the grumpy expression and bedraggled hair, she had obviously woken him up with her overly boisterous trip to her bedroom.

“I woke you up,” she said, stating the obvious since it was blatantly clear. Grimacing, she continued without needing a response, “I'm sorry. I forgot you were up here sleeping. Um, we're going to sneak out and go swimming. You wanna come with?”

“Nah, you go on without me. I don't think I'm up to it today,” Micah answered, leaning against the railing, more out of necessity than to appear non-chalant and cool. “You sure you and Blake need to be doing that? At least take Daryl, that way Gage won't get too pissed if he finds out.”

“Blake's over at Mae's helping her and Ollie do something to the porch,” Mia informed him, instantly frowning when her brother's face lit up with a lecherous grin. “Daryl's just taking me down there because he knows I'm miserable here. It's hot, duh. So, just wipe that expression off your face.”

“What? I didn't say anything.” Micah feigned innocence with a smile, but failed miserably as she could read him like an open book.

“Just don't look at me in that tone of voice,” she shot back, shaking her head in mock annoyance at her brother's antics. “There's nothing going on between me and Daryl. The last thing I need is a relationship.”

“Who said anything about a relationship? Geez, there are other things to do besides relationships, you know that, right?” The lecherous grin returned as he pushed off the railing and turned back towards his bedroom door. Glancing over his shoulder, before disappearing back into the heated cave of his bedroom, his expression softened before he added, “It's been long enough, Mia. It's okay to move on.”

As usual, Micah didn't give her a chance to argue with him, as he slipped back into his bedroom and closed the door. Sighing, she fought the urge to yell at him from across the landing for him to keep his opinions to himself, but she didn't dare say anything loud enough that Daryl might overhear. That would definitely be a can of worms that most certainly needed to stay closed.

A short while later, bikini in place beneath a pair of cut off jean shorts and a fresh tank top, Mia stepped out onto the front porch to find Daryl lounging in the chair she had recently vacated. While his hair and skin was just as slick with sweat as hers, he frustratingly didn't seem as affected by the heat as Mia. Then again, he could just be better at hiding his feelings of misery, as he seemed to be pretty skilled at covering up the majority of his emotions, outside of anger.

“I appreciate this,” Mia said as they descended the porch stairs and started towards the roadway. “I know it's risky to sneak out, but the thought of sitting on that porch and doing nothing but sweating sounds beyond depressing.”

“We should be good to slip out. Saw Gage and some of his men heading in the opposite direction when you was upstairs, said something about going over the supplies.” Daryl held open the gate for her to pass through when they got to the end of the walkway and shut it behind them. “Sorry I ain't been able to get nothing out of him. Few times I seen him without you, all he wants to do is ask where you are or what you're doing. Can't get nothing else out of him.”

“It's okay. Seriously, it's fine.” Mia reassured him as they headed towards the end of the compound to where the spot in the fence where she had been sneaking out for the past couple of years. “Honestly, at this point, I don't think we're going to find out what's going on. Everyone is too tight lipped about it, like they've been told not to say anything to me at all. Hell, even Heather has barely been talking to me and she normally yaps my ear off.”

“Yeah, I noticed she ain't been too social lately. Don't seem like no one is, except the one's you're close to. Just figured it was 'cause of what's going on with you and Gage.” Daryl stood to one side and held open the loose section of the fence so she could slip through, then followed behind her, letting the fencing slid quietly back into place.

One the other side of the wall they had constructed years before, Mia and Daryl started through the beaten down path through the thicket of trees towards the body of water that called her name. Not quite a lake, but too big to be considered a pond, it was her most favorite place and Mia hated that she had to sneak away to spend time in it. Of course, she understood the danger, but that didn't mean she had to like the rules Gage had put in place that kept her locked up inside the confining walls of the compound.

“I've definitely noticed a change in how people act towards me. It's like Gage told them not to talk to me or something. I'm lucky I have the girls, Mae and Ollie, Blake and Micah, and well, you. If not, I don't know what I'd do to keep myself entertained around here.” Mia was shocked to hear herself add Daryl into the small grouping of people she considered her friends, but realized that over the past couple of months they had been stuck together, that's exactly what he had become. Despite their arguments lately over her decision to not go with him when he sneaked the others out of the compound, they had formed some sort of bond that she was honestly grateful for. The world was a cold, dark and scary place and having people you cared about, and returned that feeling, took away a little bit of the harsh reality of life.

Ahead of them, the water sparkled in the afternoon sun and it took all of Mia's self-control not to dart through the woods and dive straight in. Instead, she allowed Daryl to take the lead and carefully check out the area for anything dangerous and waited for his signal that everything was clear, before jogging down to the water's edge. Stripping out of her clothes, eagerness causing her fingers to fumble as she tugged off her tank and shorts, she kicked off her sneakers and waded into the blissful feeling of the water.

Sadly, it wasn't as cold as she would have liked, the month long heat wave causing the water to be warmer than usual, but it was a far cry better than the bucket of water and washcloth she would have had to continue using if Daryl hadn't suggested a swimming trip. Speaking of Daryl, Mia surfaced from a long dive and pushed her wet hair out of her face to look around for him. Spying him in the tree line about twenty feet from the bank, she waved and signaled for him to join her, knowing full well he wouldn't, but offering anyway.

As predicted, she could just make out the shake of his head as he objected and showed her displeasure by wrinkling her nose and sticking out her tongue in his direction, earning at least a slight smile in response. Pushing back, the water slipped around her shoulders as she laid back on the surface of the water and stared up at the nearly cloudless robins egg blue sky. As the water filled her ears and wiped out the sound of the world around her, Mia felt the weight of the stress in her life float away, a freeing feeling, even if it did only last for a moment.

Waterlogged and limbs weak with fatigue from swimming back and forth in the water for the better part of the rest of the afternoon, Mia slowly made her way towards the bank and damn near crawled out of the water. Flopping down onto the bright green grass, she laid prone to let the sun dry her skin and suit, since she didn't have a towel. She felt the coolness of Daryl's shadow over her skin for a moment, before the sound of him sitting down on the grass beside her had her cracking one closed eye and staring over at him.

“Can you not swim or something? Is that why you never come swimming with me?” Mia asked, curious as to why he would suffer in the heat when he could relax in the relative coolness of the water instead.

“I can swim.”

“Then why don't you go in? Oh! Are you one of those people who can't get in somewhere that you can't see the bottom? Or, um...Oh! You're scared of the fish touching you? That's it isn't it?” Mia laughed at the expression on Daryl's face as she poked fun at him, all in good-natured fun, of course.

“I ain't no pansy,” Daryl grumbled with a note of annoyance in his tone. She had obviously hit a nerve, since he was showing something other than passive indifference. “Just figure it's better for one of us to be paying attention, is all.”

“Hey, I was just picking. I didn't mean anything mean by it.” Mia pushed up so that she was resting back on her elbows and glanced over at him. Grinning, she added, it’s fine if you don't want to swim with me, just means more water for me.”

When he turned his head to look at her, that half-cocked grin firmly in place, Mia felt a swarm of butterflies erupt in the pit of her stomach. Something about the expression on his face, the glimmer of something in his indigo eyes and the quirk of his lips set her skin on fire and spread warmth straight through her belly and further, all the way down to a place that had barely sparkled with desire in the damn near seven years since the last time she had seen her husband.

The building attraction she felt towards Daryl was overwhelming and confusing. He was nothing like the men she had sought out during her youth and the complete opposite of her husband, who was tall, blonde and ripped with muscle. He was low-key, where Brian was the life of the party. Daryl was quiet and downright emotionless at times, where Brian's voice was deep and boomed loudly when he laughed, which was often. He was harsh and at times hurtful, where Brian had been oh so gentle with her feelings.

Daryl was the dark in comparison to the light that was Brian, and for some reason that she couldn't explain, he seemed to be exactly what she wanted in spite of the fact that he was the complete opposite to everything she loved.

Mia swallowed the lump that was suddenly stuck in the back of her throat and fumbled for something to say in response to Daryl's questioning glare. Nerves skittered deep inside as she suddenly felt like the awkward preteen she had once been, all gangly arms and legs with braces, and she felt the buildup of what she had often referred to as “word vomit” back when she suffered from serious social anxiety in her youth. However, before what would only be a mouthful of embarrassment could spew out, the sound of a twigs breaking and the sound of horse hooves clomping against the roadway broke the awkward silence.

Daryl's head whipped around as a muttered curse passed his lips, a half-second before he pushed up from the ground, all but dragging her along with him. With a finger pressed over his lips, he leaned down to grab hold of her discarded clothes and shoved them towards her. Clutching her shorts, tank and sneakers against her chest, Mia let Daryl pull her towards the cover of the trees, to where they peeked out to see where the sounds were coming from.

Across the water, to where the road from the compound disappeared around a curve, a small group could be seen making their way out of the shadows provided by the trees that lined the roadway. Two horses and a trailer full with supplies, flanked by dirt and grime covered men, and the heads of two children poked up above the pile of provisions. 

“Fuck,” Mia muttered in horror at the sight, “They're back and, they found what they were looking for.” Daryl glanced at her with a scowl on his face. “They needed ten, that's what I heard. They found two more, by the looks of it.”

“Then looks like we ain't got much more time then,” Daryl replied grimly. “We ain't got time to wait around and figure out what their plan is. We gotta move, soon.”

The lump in her throat returned, along with a knot of despair in the pit of her stomach. Knowing he was right, Mia could only nod in agreement at Daryl's statement. It was time to gather the troops and get him and the others to safety under the cover of darkness. It was the plan she had set in motion, the plan that would undoubtedly save the lives of people that meant a lot to her, but it also meant that they would no longer be a part of her life. And, no matter how much she knew they would be better off, not seeing Mae, Blake and the kids again hurt her heart.

But, what scared her the most, was that that her heart also hurt over the thought of never seeing Daryl again.


	33. Chapter 33

_“I’m scared to get close and I hate being alone.  
I long for that feeling to not feel at all.  
The higher I get, the lower I’ll sink.  
I can’t drown my demons, they know how to swim.”_

__

Bring Me the Horizon “Can You Feel My Heart”

Their pace back to the compound was far faster than the one they had taken to get to the lake earlier in the day, as they needed to make it back before the scavenging group returned. The path through the woods was shorter than the roads the group had to use, under a mile as the crow flies, so as long as they kept up their current pace they should make it in plenty of time.

The trek was silent and quickly paced, stopping only long enough to allow Mia to shimmy back into her clothes and slip on her sneakers, and they made it back to the outer edge of the compound in under half an hour. The fence line was in sight, the rusted and multi-colored metal stand out like a sore thumb even from half a football field away, but before he and Mia could dart the remaining distance to the compound, the sounds of at least two men talking on the other side caught Daryl's attention.

Pausing, senses on high alert, Daryl's hand darted out and grabbed hold of Mia's bicep, halting her advancement towards the fence and earning himself an annoyed glare since she obviously had not heard the men on the other side of the fence. Years of surviving on his own, hunting for his own meals and relying on his own instincts, had sharpened his senses to a level far higher than Mia's. Lifting a finger to his lips, he pressed the digit against his mouth in a signal to be quiet and then gestured towards the fence line to let her know what was going on. Luckily, while she didn't have a lot of survival skills, she was smart enough to understand the message he was conveying and did not ask any questions. Instead, she allowed him to take the lead and followed without any objections.

Halfway to the large tree to their right, the massive beast with a trunk large enough for them to both hide behind, Daryl saw the hand of one of the men poke through the broken area of the fence and, fearing that it was about to be moved completely and they would be caught, he darted forward towards the only hiding spot available and tugged Mia along behind him. Shoving her with more force than intended, Daryl pressed her back against the rough bark of the tree trunk and held her in place with his hands on her biceps. He didn't think she was stupid enough to move away from him, but firmly holding her where he wanted her to stay where he placed her was less risky.

Mia was trapped between him and the tree as Daryl tried to make them less visible to the men that were now walking around the outside of the fence. The dampness of her bikini had seeped through to moisten her clothes and cause them to cling tightly to her body, the sun having not had enough time to dry the swimsuit before they'd had to run for the cover of the trees to hide from the approaching group. Mia's breaths were short and choppy, a sign of the panic that was no doubt coursing through her body at the thought of being caught, which was causing her breasts to press against his chest with each inhalation and was doing a damn good job of distracting Daryl from the danger at hand.

Glancing down slightly to meet Mia's eyes, wild and filled with fear, Daryl tried his best to silently reassure her they were going to be okay, but the silent communication did nothing to lessen the look of panic in her gaze. Dipping his head in close to hers, he leaned slightly to the left and when his lips were close enough to brush against her earlobe, he gruffly whispered, “Just be quite and we'll be fine. They ain't out here looking for us. Just the fence.”

Leaning back, he made eye contact with her against and cocked an eyebrow questioningly at her, and murmured, “You got this. Just breathe.”

She nodded her head, a choppy movement that did nothing to assure him that she would be okay, and nibbled on her bottom lip nervously, a gesture so small and insignificant that it should not have caused any reaction from him and yet, the sight of her plump lower lip being gnawed so delicately by her teeth caused a flare of attraction deep inside of him.

The attraction he held for Mia was surprising to say the least, it was the very last thing he expected to happen on his trek for salvation, but what unnerved him the most was that whatever the hell he felt for Mia ran far deeper than just a sexual appeal. He could not deny that his body craved hers. Hell, the fact that his cock was harder than it had been in years, simply because it was pressed against her body, which was covered in an insignificant amount of damp clothes, was proof that he was sexually attracted to the woman. That much was evident. But what truly threw him for a loop was that over the course of their time together, he had grown to truly care about her and her well-being.

That emotional connection was the scariest thing of all. How could his heart still beat for Lily and yet, crave the connection that had grown between him and Mia? The sexual attraction was the easiest part to comprehend, that was purely a physical desire that needed to be satiated. But his heart and soul was having a very difficult time coming to terms with the other feelings he was having towards Mia Carter. And, if brain was telling him that the best thing to do was to run away and do so quickly, because when the time came to escape back to his family, Mia was not going to do so with him and his heart would be broken once more.  
The best thing for him was to keep his distance from her, mentally and emotionally, because physically he was stuck with her so long as Gage had his way.

Of course, Daryl knew that what Gage had in mind was nothing close to what his own mind was conjuring up in regards to being physical with Mia. That much was a given, but damn it to Hell, resisting the woman in his arms was getting to be too difficult to do. And, judging by the look that was now in Mia's hazel eyes, no doubt from the feel of his hardened erection that was pressed against her, resisting the urge was going to be far more difficult than he had ever imagined.

Never in a million years would Daryl ever have imagined that Mia would be looking at him with the same amount of lust and need that coursed through his own veins, but there she was doing just that. The look in her eyes, combined with the feel of her tight body pressed against his, was doing a damned fine job of distracting him and making him momentarily forget why they were in the woods and hiding behind a tree. Luckily, or more like annoyingly, the sound of boots tromping through the dead leaves and fallen twigs that surrounded them penetrated his distracted mind and brought him back to reality.

Forcing his gaze to unlock from Mia's, Daryl eased ever so slightly to the left and glanced around the massive tree trunk. He mentally cursed himself when he realized just how close one of the men had gotten to them, but sighed in relief when the skinny man with heavy tattoos and spiked blonde hair stopped about ten feet away and turned back to head back towards the fence. He watched as the man stopped to talk to another of Gage's security team, a well-built man with skin the color of a black coffee, before they both disappeared back through the broken fence and disappeared from sight.

Keeping his voice low just in case, he turned to Mia and said, “They're gone. We ain't got long to get back in though, no doubt they're gonna tell someone it's broken.”

Mia nodded in agreement, seemingly at a loss for words for a moment, before she finally managed to ask, “How are we going to get back in? What if one of them stayed behind to guard it?”

“Most likely they ain't got a reason to stay behind with it, not unless Gage told them to do that. If he knows we're gone, then they'd probably stay behind. If he's just making sure the gates secure, they'll probably just tell someone.” Reaching out to her, Daryl took Mia's hand and told himself he was doing so simply because the fallen twigs and branches could cause her to trip, but knew that she was damned capable at walking around out in the woods by herself, since she had been doing so just fine up until that day. However, knowing that didn't stop him from holding on to her hand tightly as they navigated their way towards the fence line.

When they got to the correct spot, he dropped her hand and motioned for her to be quiet and still while he checked to make sure no one was waiting for them. Luckily, when he moved the panel to the side to peek through, he didn't see anyone lurking around on the other side. “Coast is clear,” he said to Mia when he glanced over his shoulder and gestured her through the panel he opened wider for her to slip through, thoroughly appreciating the sight of her rounded backside as she did so.

They had barely had enough time to slip back into the compound and make it back to Mia's front yard, when Heather strolled up and gave a knowing smirk at the sight of Mia's dampened clothes and the telltale sight of the knot of her bikini top strap that poked out of the neckline of her tank. While Daryl trusted the young woman to an extent, not really figuring her as the type to rush back to Gage and snitch on them, he hated that they hadn't made it back in time for Mia to change clothes, just in case.

“Jason and them are back,” Heather announced with a smile. She placed her hands on the railing of the fence that circled the yard and leaned in towards it, showcasing the low cut top she was wearing that broadcast the cleavage she was clearly displaying. “Gage wants everyone up front in five. Seems they brought something good back with them.”

“Okay, thanks. We'll be up that way in a minute,” Mia piped up, answering for the both of them, even though Heather's attentions were directed towards Daryl. “I'll pass it along to Micah and Blake for you.”

“No need. I already told Blake over at Mae's and Micah is with Gage.” Heather pushed away from the fence and flashed a bright smile at Daryl. “I was sent to find ya'll, since no one had seen you since lunch.”

Not bothering to offer up an excuse as to their absence, one that had obviously been noticed, he just didn't know who all had figured it out as of yet, Daryl nudged Mia in the direction of the house and followed suit. Glancing back at Heather, he said, “Go on without us.”

“Don't be late!” Heather's voice called out to their backs as they went into the house, the sing-songy lilt to her words instantly grated on Daryl's nerves.

He knew it was a risk to sneak Mia out to go swimming, one that he would happily take again if it meant seeing her floating around carefree with a smile on her face, but damned if he wanted to deal with the fallout from that decision. He hoped that Gage hadn't noticed, that the return of the scavenging group had distracted him enough this time. Of course, they wouldn't know until they made their way to the center of the small town to welcome home the team and see just what they brought back with them.

Once inside the house, he shoved the door closed with an aggravated sigh and simply stood in the foyer. Mia, who should have been halfway up the stairs in search of dry clothes, remained beside him and he could feel the tension rolling off of her in waves.

“He knows,” she whispered with unease evident on her tongue.

Daryl glanced over at her and hated the sight of worry on her features, the tightness of her mouth, the rigidity of her posture and the glimmer of fear in her eyes. That tug of attraction pulled him closer to her, facing her now, instead of standing shoulder to shoulder. As though his limbs had a mind of their own, Daryl was surprised to find his hands on either side of her head, tilting it ever so slightly to make eye contact with her.

Gazes connected, he promised, “It's gonna be okay.”

“But-” Mia started, but the tears in her eyes spilled over and choked her words. Sniffling, she squeezed her eyes tightly shut and tried again, her words softer than a whisper as she admitted her fears, “I'm scared, Daryl.”

“I ain't gonna let him hurt you, I promise,” Daryl replied, instantly hating himself for tacking on a promise that he honestly couldn't make. He had given his promise to Lily and failed her, what right did he have to give his word to Mia, too, when it could so easily be broken? But, deep down, he knew he would fight harder than he had in a long time to keep the promise he had just given Mia. He wouldn't fail her the way he had done with Lily.

Using his thumbs, he wiped away the tears under her eyes and knew that he would give his life to make sure hers wasn't taken away. Whatever it took, he would do it. That much he knew, that much he could promise. Letting Mia lean into him, Daryl wrapped his arms around her and let himself relish the feel of her in his arms. With his lips pressed against her damp hair, he murmured, “I promise.”


	34. Chapter 34

_"You, you're everything I want.  
And I, I am everything you need.  
This night is cutting into me  
You tie me down, you watch me bleed  
And we risk everything  
Tonight!_

__

_In This Moment “Scarlet”_

Fear coursed through her body, breaking down her resistance to be brave and strong in the face of danger. In fact, it wasn't until the moment when Daryl had pressed her against a tree in order to hide from the men that Gage obviously sent out to check the fence and clearly search for them, that Mia had been forced to accept the true level of danger they were actually in. While the concept had been there, it was not until that very afternoon when she had been forced to accept the fact that the situation she was in was far from secure.

Reality was a bitch sometimes.

She had somehow managed to keep her shit together long enough to get back to the house and, amazingly enough, talk to Heather, although her body had felt like it was shaking like a leaf during the short conversation. Luckily, Heather's attention had been focused on Daryl, something that would normally grate on Mia's nerves, but at that moment, she had been grateful for the distraction. Had Heather's full attention been on Mia, she was certain the woman would have noticed the quake in her voice and the tremble of her hands as she struggled to remain calm.

Fear clutched at her heart as she turned to face Daryl once they were inside the house, behind the relative safety of the closed front door. “He knows,” Mia whispered, nerves causing her voice to shake even more so than it was during the talk with Heather only moments before.

She glanced up and locked eyes with Daryl, the intense icy look that normally lived in his gaze softened when he realized just how upset she truly was. “It's gonna be okay,” he said, his words as low and full of gravel as always.

“But-” Mia started to argue, but failed as the fear in her heart formed into hot tears in her eyes. She hated for him to see the tears, despised showing anyone what she considered to be a weakness, but they weren't going away and there was nothing she could do to hide what she was feeling from the man that was staring at her intently. Sniffling, she admitted,  
“I'm scared, Daryl.”

“I ain't gonna let him hurt you, I promise,” Daryl replied without skipping a beat. His reassurance should have calmed her nerves to a degree, but they didn't. He didn't know what he was dealing with. Shit, she didn't know what they were dealing with, since Gage had never in a second acted the way he was doing now. The Gage she had grown up with had been kind hearted, loving and, she hated to say it, but a pushover...absolutely nothing like the man he had turned into. That man was unpredictable, because that man was a pure mystery to her.

Mia startled at the feel of Daryl touching her. She was unprepared for the feeling of his hands on her skin, the soft touch of his thumbs as they wiped away the tears that had spilled over onto her cheeks, to the gentle nature that he obviously worked so hard to keep hidden. Giving in to the need for comfort that her body and soul ached for, Mia leaned into his hold. She couldn't rest her head against his chest the way she used to with her husband, given that Daryl was only an inch or two taller than she was, but with a slight bit of slouching, she was able to lean in against him and seek out what she craved.

“I promise,” Daryl said with his lips pressed against her hair, the rumble of his voice soothed her fear and Mia relaxed in his hold. “I ain't gonna let him hurt you. It ain't happening. I promise.”

Slipping her arms around his torso, not at all surprised to find muscles beneath the loose shirt he wore over a gray tank. She had felt the compact, raw strength hidden away beneath the baggy clothes he favored when she and Blake had struggled to get Daryl's unconscious weight up onto the back of her horse the first day they had met, but feeling the corded muscles today, under different circumstances, was a different feeling altogether.

As though guided by their own desires, her hands flattened against his back. Palms down, they caressed their way down towards the small of his back, relishing the feel of his strong form. It had been a long time, too long actually, since she had felt the warmth of a man's body, and she didn't realize just how much she missed the feeling.

Slipping the tips of her fingers beneath the edge of his shirt, Mia slid them across the band of bare skin and tilted her head back to stare up at Daryl. Surprised to not find any objections in his gaze, Mia channeled all the fear in her body into the desire that had lived there for weeks, since Daryl had first barreled into her life and recharged the sensuality she had been missing since the last time she saw her husband. Of course, while there wasn't any verbal objections from him in regards to her actions, the fact that Daryl stood stock still and didn't offer up a response didn't exactly scream that he wanted what she was silently offering.

Feeling brave, yet completely and utterly afraid at the same time, Mia lifted her face to Daryl's and tentatively pressed her lips against his. His lips were still beneath hers, painfully so, and Mia felt the lurch of embarrassment and heartache claw at her from inside as she started to pull away from him. A shudder exhaled from Daryl, an exhalation so deep and shaky that Mia wondered how long he had been holding it in, but that wonderment was cut short when his hands tightened around her arms and hauled her back towards him with a guttural moan.

His lips descended upon hers, the whiskers around his mouth scratched against her skin in a way that was altogether sensual and not painful, though Mia had no doubt they would leave red marks around her mouth. Sensitive skin or not, she gave in to the rough feel of his kiss and fed it with the desire and need that churned deep inside her own body. A need fueled by fear, a desire fed by the aching loneliness that plagued her soul, and a passion that burned hotter than she had felt in eons.

It had been a very long time since she had wanted anyone as much as she wanted Daryl at that very moment. Her skin tingled as the slow burn of arousal pooled in the pit of her stomach and clenched between her legs with a need so fiery she thought she might pass out or simply catch on fire at that very moment. Tightening her hold around his narrow waist, Mia pressed against Daryl as tightly as she could, leaving barely enough room between their bodies for a breath to slither through.

She was half a second away from crawling up his body and eating him whole, consuming every bit of passion that his body could give her, when the unfortunate sound of someone clearing their throat doused the hot moment like a bucket of ice water over a raging bonfire. Frozen, her hands shoved up his shirt and his wrapped tightly around her biceps with enough force to inevitably leave bruises, their bodies pressed against one another and his tongue halfway down her throat, Mia wanted to weep when Daryl slowly released his hold on her and took a step back, although the desire he obviously felt for her was still quite evident, even though he tried his best to adjust his position to hide that fact.

Face flaming red with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal, Mia gathered her composure as quickly as possible and glanced over her shoulder towards the front door. Luckily, she was certain the intruder wasn't Gage, solely based on the quite intrusion and lack of outrage that followed seeing the two of them making out like horny teenagers. Seeing Blake standing with his back pressed against the closed front door, his face as red as the flame colored hair on his head, Mia managed to speak, although it sounded more like a squeak to her ears.

“Blake,” she uttered, hating the shrill sound to her voice. “What's up?”

Thankfully, her young friend had the decency to skirt around the topic of what he had just seen and, instead, carried on with what he had obviously been sent to do. “Meeting's starting soon. Gage, he uh, sent me to find you two.”

In the literal heat of the moment, Mia had somehow managed to forget all about the meeting and cursed. “Let me change real quick. You go ahead, I don't want you to get in to trouble because of me.”

“He said not to come back unless you were with me,” Blake choked out, embarrassment strangling his words as well as continuing to color his cheeks. Darting his eyes quickly to the silent man standing opposite of Mia, he added, “You, too, Daryl. I, uh...he's got something planned, not sure what though. Just, you know, something that he wants you there for.”

“I'm sure it's a barrel of fun, whatever it is.” Mia shuddered at the thought, knowing damned well that what he wanted was to rake hot coals over her skin in regards to sneaking out and going swimming again without his permission. As if he would have given it had she went to him to ask.

After a quick dart upstairs to shimmy out of the now only slightly damp clothes and into dry, clean underwear, jeans, tank and boots, Mia clamored down the stairs to find Daryl and Blake in damned near the same position as when she had left them moments before. As unreadable as always, Daryl barely glanced in her direction when she reappeared and simply held open the door as she followed Blake outside onto the porch.

Sparing one glance at him before heading towards the center of town, hoping to gleam some insight into what he was feeling, Mia thought for half a second she saw a glimmer of guilt in his eyes before he shut down before her, emotionless as the robot as she had often thought of him as after Gage had shoved him into her house. Unknowingly misreading the guilt in his eyes, figuring it had something to do with going swimming, she let it go and headed straight towards Gage and her unknown fate.

Mia had no way of knowing that what was going through Daryl's mind had little to do with the temperamental and unpredictable leader and everything to do with giving in to his feelings for her and forgetting, even for a moment, the red-haired woman named Lily that he had long since given his heart to and failed. There was no way she could know that, because as much as he knew about her, she knew nothing about him.

Not that she could worry about that now, because at that very moment she was walking towards the crowd in the center of town with cement in her shoes and fear clutching her heart tighter with each step. As if sensing her arrival, Gage turned around the minute she stepped into the ring of people circling around him and glared at her with enough emotion in his gaze that Mia damned near threw up from the panic in her belly.

“About damned time you showed up,” Gage growled, stepping away from the handful of men he had been talking to, the ones unloading crates and bags from the horse drawn trailer she and Daryl had seen coming into town earlier. Grabbing hold of her bicep, the same location Daryl had been holding onto only moments before, but with far less intensity, Gage led her towards the opposite side of the crowd. “I'm not even going to ask where you've been. I don't want to know, because it'll just piss me off and I don't feel like being pissed off right now. But we will talk, just later. Got it?”

Without bothering to let her answer his obviously rhetorical question, Mia simply managed to get in a slight nod of the head before he jutted his chin towards the sidewalk where Mae was squatting down talking to two kids. “We've got new ones. I want you to get them settled, get them whatever they need, make sure they're comfortable, okay? They're younger than usual, probably scared.”

Glancing towards Mae, Mia took in the ragged appearance of the two kids and felt her heart lurch and stomach drop at the sight. They couldn't be more than eight years old, nine or ten at the most, and looked absolutely terrified. Fear over her own situation dissipated at the sight, and her motherly instincts took over. Nodding, she started towards the girls once Gage let go of her arm, “I've got them. Don't worry, Gage. You know I'll take care of them.”

“I know you will, Mia. You've always been good with kids,” Gage's voice softened as he stared down at her and Mia could have sworn there was sadness in his eyes when he continued, “You'd have made a great mom.”

Choking back the emotion suddenly in her throat, both from the mention of the kids she had always wanted and never had, but at the sight of a Gage that she had thought she had lost. But, that moment was fleeting when the hardness slid back into his eyes like a shield against the outside world, and he started to leave, but not without a warning before he went. “We'll talk later.”

She was spared his lecture or worse, for the time being, but Mia had no idea how long she could evade his temper. Sighing, she turned back to the two children and Mae and buried the emotions coursing through her at the moment. It was time to put her ass in action, not to worry about Gage or stress over Daryl, there would be plenty of time to do both of those things when she was lying in bed alone in the darkness later that night.


	35. Chapter 35

_“Well, I don’t know what it means  
But I can’t seem to make myself forget.  
Was it something that you said?  
Was it the guilt in my head?”_

__

Stabbing Westward “Haunting Me”

Standing off to the side of group, his usual stance in life, Daryl watched carefully as Gage led Mia away from the group. Nervousness had morphed into straight up anxiety when Gage had approached them the instant the walked up and escorted Mia away with his large hand circled around her bicep, but had waned ever so slightly when he realized that the man was simply leading her towards the other side of the roadway to where Mae was crouched down talking to two small children. While Daryl was still concerned as to what Gage was going to do about him allowing Mia to slip out of the fencing once more, it was obvious from the urgency in his step and expression on his face that, at least for the moment, he had been searching for Mia simply for the task of dealing with the new children.

He watched over her like a mother hen while she nodded along to whatever it was that Gage was saying, perched on the balls of his feet and ready to pounce if the situation took a turn for the worse. Luckily, it didn't. Gage simply left her alone to deal with the two newcomers and Mae, before turning on his heel and heading back towards Daryl with an unpleasant look on his face. Well, at least the man hadn't taken out his anger on Mia. The trip to the lake had at least been Daryl's decision that afternoon, unlike the other times when he had followed Mia out towards her preferred swimming hole. He had to admit to himself, that to see her so relaxed and bask in the warmth of her smile that the trek had placed on her face, he would risk the punishment again and again.

And, just the thought of Mia's happiness and what had happened between them once they had gotten back to the safety of the house they shared together, caused the guilt in his heart to return once more. He felt like a shit for even having feelings for the woman, much less an attraction that led to something far more intense than the sexual nature it had solely been at first, but what he had allowed to happen that afternoon made him feel like a complete and utter shit. He had no business falling for Mia, kissing her, or anything else, not as long as his heart and soul still belonged to Lily. It did still belong to her, didn't it? He was not the type to run around willy nilly, letting his feelings flow freely. Sure, multiple sex partners had happened numerous times over the course of his life, but none of them meant a damned thing besides getting his nut off. Shit, he was a damned man after all. But, when he had told Lily he loved her, he had damned well meant it and he fully thought that not even her death would change that. But somehow, this woman that he had been placed with had slithered in and messed with not only his heart, but his head, and Daryl was beyond confused about what to do about it.

Of course, judging by the pissed off expression on Gage's face as he stalked towards him, he probably wouldn't have to worry about his own feelings much longer. Hell, the man was likely to choke the life out of him right there in the middle of the street and there was little Daryl could do about it, being that he was armed only with a measly pocket knife and Gage's security team was flanked around the entire area.

“Daryl, we need to talk,” Gage announced when he was finally standing in front of him, as if Daryl was completely clueless and had not already figured that much out. Gesturing towards his home, Gage started towards the walkway without bothering to look to see if Daryl was following, just arrogantly assuming he was.

Which, of course, Daryl was actually doing. As if that wasn't aggravating enough? Blindly following the prick that made Mia's life miserable, without any objection whatsoever? Annoyed, bordering on livid, Daryl stepped inside Gage's home and turned the corner to follow the man into the living room. When Gage simply turned around and perched a hip on the edge of his desk, arms folded, and stared at him in silence, Daryl let a pinch of his annoyance slip out with a sarcastically toned question. “Well, we talking or what?”

He immediately regretted the bitchy attitude when Gage pushed off the desk and stalked towards him, the only guard in the room instantly on alert and poised for attack the moment his boss showed any sort of alarm. Hand at his hip, ready to pull the knife from his pocket if needed, Daryl mentally worked through what steps he needed to take in order to escape the situation alive and took a step backwards, away from Gage's advancement.

“Yeah, we're gonna talk,” Gage ground out, as virtual steam blared from his ears. “You let her drag you down to the lake again, didn't you?”

Again? Daryl caught the wording of Gage's question and fumbled mentally for the right wording to the question he was just asked, trying to figure out which response would get him-no, the both of them- in the least amount of trouble. But, as with a lot of Gage's questions, that particular one was also rhetorical, as the man rarely asked what he didn't already know the answer to.

“Of course I knew,” Gage scoffed, stopped a half a damned breath away from Daryl and severely violating his personal space, but the steam blowing anger seemed to seep away ever so slightly. Gage sighed, closing his eyes momentarily, as he lifted his hand to rub away the tension in his head with his fingertips. “She has a way with getting what she wants, Daryl. Don't think I wasn't already aware of that aspect of Mia.”

“Why ain't you said nothing before now?” Daryl asked, honestly curious as to what the hell was going on. If Gage was aware that they had been sneaking in and out this whole time, why wait until then to say something? Why not back weeks ago when they had done it the first time?

“Honestly? I don't fucking know.” Gage sighed and visibly seemed to age a solid five years from the anxiety of dealing Mia, right before Daryl's eyes, a feeling he knew all too well. The woman was intelligent, amusing, down right sexy as fuck once you got past her sometimes annoying as hell attitude, and dealing with her could either give you a severe headache or a raging hard on...sometimes both. Daryl watched as sadness seemed to wash over the man's features and the confusion he felt grew in spades as to what in the absolute hell was going on, and then Gage went and added a bucket load of questions to the pile. “I just wanted to keep her safe, that's all. I promised her husband I'd take care of her, but damn it, she doesn't make it easy to do that. I thought maybe dealing with you, someone new and who she didn't know how to deal with would keep her from taking chances.”

“Wait, you did what?” Daryl blurted out the question before he could even take a moment to process what the hell Gage was trying to tell him. Had the man honestly just admitted to sticking him with Mia because she didn't know him and therefor, didn't know how to manipulate him? Snorting at that ludicrous notion, because Mia could easily manipulate the shit out of him and, to be honest, had done so more than once whether she knew it or not, Daryl glared at Gage and said, “What was all that shit about killing me if I got her hurt then?”

“Oh, that's still the truth. If something does happen to Mia, whomever hurts her will pay dearly, and that goes for the person that's supposed to be watching her, too.” Gage turned and sank down onto the couch, motioning for Daryl to take a seat across from him, which he obliged by doing, simply because he needed to hear more of what the hell was going on. “There were other guards out there, two or sometimes three, depending on who was available. I'm surprised you didn't notice them, you seem pretty aware of your surroundings most of the time.”

He had heard things here and there, but hadn't actually seen the men Gage was talking about. Not that Daryl was going to admit why his attention had been less than stellar, but he figured Gage of all people would know how distracting Mia in a bikini was, whether you liked the woman or not. Keeping silent, Daryl leaned back against the paisley patterned chair and let Gage continue.

“They were told to keep enough distance that hopefully they'd go unnoticed and they did just that. I wanted someone there on the off chance that something happened, something you couldn't control. A backup plan to keep her safe.” Gage paused and glanced over his shoulder, motioning something to the guard placed by the front door that Daryl couldn't see, before turning back to face him. “There are a couple weak places in the fencing, which we've been working on, and I wasn't a hundred percent sure which one she was slipping out of, but that's being taken care of now. Although, let's face it, you and I both know that a fixed fence isn't going to keep Mia in place. She hates being cooped up.”

“So all this ain't been nothing but a lie? You scared the shit out of her for nothing?” Daryl asked as he pushed down the rage that bubbled up inside at what Gage had been putting Mia through, all for damned nothing.

“Not for nothing. She's alive, isn't she?” Gage said matter-of-factually, without a hint of remorse on his face. “I love her, you know that. I want her safe and I will do anything in this damned world to keep her that way and if fucking fear is the way to do it, then so be it. She wasn't listening to anything else. Fuck reason, not when it comes to her stubborn streak. I had to play dirty and you coming along gave me the chance I needed. But hell, I don't know you, don't know shit about you, so why in the fuck do you think I'd just let you run off and play house with the woman I love without a backup plan?”

He had actually wondered that on more than one occasion, but damned if Daryl was going to admit that to Gage. Hating the logical explanation the man was giving him, Daryl simply grimaced in response and scrubbed a hand over his face and through his hair instead, as he glanced out the window to see if he could see Mia. He couldn't, not from his current location with the carriage parked out front. He would have felt a bit better about the situation if he could, still not knowing if Gage was being honest with him, despite the perfectly logical explanation he was receiving.

“Here,” Gage said, breaking the momentary silence. Daryl turned his attention back to the man, fully expecting something like a drink since that's what usually happened the few times he had been in Gage's home, but was shocked beyond belief when he was handed his crossbow instead. “Had one of the guys restring it for you and rounded up a few bolts we had lying around. Hell, might as well take this shitty ass revolver back, too. Not much, but better than the knife alone, right?

“You're being fucking serious, aren't you?” Daryl asked in complete and utter shock, finally letting the full force of his disbelief over the situation shine through. The revolver he could not care less about, as he had only just found it in that old couple’s house before running across Mia and Blake, but he had missed his crossbow dearly. Holding his crossbow as though it were a long lost lover, he caressed a shaky hand over the curvature of the bow and glanced past the new strings to Gage.

“I want you to keep her safe,” Gage said pointedly, staring at Daryl with something in his expression that Daryl couldn't figure out. A darkness lurked there, something dangerous that he couldn't put a finger on and it infuriated him that there were still questions that needed answers and he doubted he would be getting all of them any time soon. “Like I said before, she's to be kept safe. Not a scratch, a wound of any kind. Hell, not a goddamned hair out of place, otherwise you deal with me. Now, if that's it, I've got some things I need to take care of.”

Knowing when it was time to move the fuck on, at least for the time being, Daryl stood up after Gage and shoved the rusted revolver in his back pocket. He was clearly being dismissed, but he couldn't say he was upset about that fact. The meeting with Gage had been anything but predictable and his mind was still reeling with what all had taken place. He needed time to process and some alone time with Mia to discuss what the hell had happened.

Nodding to Gage as he headed out of the room, he gestured towards the crossbow clutched in his shaky grasp and muttered his coarsely spoken gratitude before shutting the front door behind him. Standing on the front porch, the late afternoon sun barely shining on him as it slowly faded away for the night, Daryl searched the area for Mia and came up empty. Figuring she was either in the house where the girls lived or at Mae's, he headed down the walkway in that direction of town, hoping that her time with the newcomers didn't need to be an all-night ordeal, because they had a lot to talk about.

As he headed down the street, lost in his own musings and confusion about the turn the night had taken, a severely distracted Daryl never noticed the curious pair of eyes that followed his every step.


	36. Chapter 36

_"I can feel you all around me  
Thickening the air I'm breathing  
Holding on to what I'm feeling  
Savoring this heart that's healing."_

__

Flyleaf "All Around Me" 

After Gage left her standing on the sidewalk, Mia headed over to where Mae was now standing next to the two new children waiting for her. Worry was etched into the kindhearted expression that the older woman typically wore, evident in the furrow of her brow and the hard line of her mouth. Mia didn't blame her in the slightest for being worried, for any sane person in their current position would obviously feel the same way. In fact, anxiousness gnawed in the pit of her own stomach as she approached the trio, but Mia tried her best to erase any sign of her own nerves in hopes that appearing calm would put the two children at ease.

“Sorry it took me so long to get over here,” Mia apologized to Mae as she stepped up onto the sidewalk next to her. The two exchanged one brief look of understanding, communicating silently the gravity of the situation, before Mia squatted down so she could talk to the kids on their own level.

Dirty and disheveled, a common look for anyone wandering around the world without the luxury of running water or readily accessible hygiene products, the pair were both too thin for Mia's likes and sported matching wide eyed expressions of fear that hurt her heart. Best she could tell, the male half of the pair was no more than ten years old, whereas the tiny female tucked protectively next to him was easily half that, unless they were both small for their age.

“Hey there,” she said softly, doing her best to put the kids at ease with a soothing voice. “My name's Mia. What's ya’lls names?”

She hadn't expected to be met with a verbal barrage of conversation, but the cold silence that followed her question and distrustful gazes only solidified her earlier thought that however these kids ended up with the scavenging group wasn't a pleasant experience. Of course, it was normal to be wary of strangers, and living in the apocalypse only hardened that instinct, so it was possible that the kids were just doing what they had been taught since the end of the world. Or, in the case of the youngest child, what she had learned since the day she had been brought into this horrible experience called life as it was now.

Glancing up at Mae, she caught the woman's eye once more and sighed when she shook her head to convey that they would not speak to her either. Not that Mia expected them to trust her straight off the bat, but a little childlike naivety and trust would go a long way towards getting them cleaned up, fed and tucked into a bed for the night. Without a little give and take on their part, the night ahead was guaranteed to be a difficult one.  
Trying again to break the ice, she asked, “I bet you guys are hungry after being on the road. How about we go find something for you to eat for dinner? Would you like that?”

The tow headed little girl simply stared straight ahead, the fear and distrust in her gaze never wavering, but the mention of food got a spark of life out of the boy that she clung to like he was her lifeline. A simple nod of his head, so quick she would have missed it had she not been staring at him like a bug under a microscope, and Mia felt a flicker of hope flare in her heart at the tiniest forms of progress. Standing up, she didn't bother to hold out a hand for them to grab hold of, knowing that doing so would only end up in being rejected. Instead, she motioned for them to follow her and Mae towards the home where the other girls lived and then walked slow enough for their little legs to keep up with hers.

Opening the front door, she glanced around for any of the occupants, but remembered that pretty much everyone in the compound was still gathered in the center of town as the wagons were unloaded and the treasures were presented. The empty house was for the best at the moment, since the boisterous kids that usually lived there would likely only provide too much stimulation for the new children and Mia wondered if she needed to find a place for them to stay for a few days until they adjusted to their surroundings better. She made a mental note to talk to Mae about that matter once she had the kids settled around the kitchen table with a much needed meal.

In the pale green and cream kitchen, Mia got the kids seated at the farmhouse style table and headed towards the cabinets with Mae to search inside for something to feed them. Grabbing a mason jar full of vegetables, she smothered a grin and glanced over her shoulder to ask, “You guys eat pickled pigs feet, right?”

While her question was met with the same silence as before, it at least earned a curled lip of disgust from the little boy and an emphatically shaken head of disagreement. Mia took that response as yet another tick in the progress column and turned back around to paw through the cabinet, choosing another vegetable to go with the one in her hand and a jar of canned deer meat. While it wasn't exactly restaurant quality, the meal she would have on their plates in a few short minutes was at least nutritious. That was about all anyone could ask for these days, especially with the dwindling crops in their community.

“Dinner is served,” Mia announced brightly, as she slid matching plates in front of the kids and Mae added glasses of room temperature water to wash it down. Thankfully, they seemed to not be too picky and dug into their meals without any argument, or they were hungry enough to not care. Either way, Mia was just happy to see them eating and hoped the next step in their journey for the night was as easy.

Luckily, getting the duo cleaned and into new clothes was not the hardest thing she had ever had to do, but it certainly wasn't the easiest. Neither wanted to be without the other, a feeling she could totally understand, as that's how she had always felt when it came to Micah, but they also didn't want any help from Mia or Mae, and insisted they could take care of themselves. She desperately wanted to wash their hair, but insisting on doing that would only cause an uproar and she didn't want to do that on their first night there. Instead of arguing, Mia gathered up buckets of water, washcloths and towels, soap and clean clothes, and let the kids clean up on their own.

Leaving the kids to their own devices in the downstairs bathroom, Mia and Mae stepped across the hallway and settled down at the kitchen table to wait for them. With the door open, they could not see into the bathroom, but they could hear them well enough in case they needed them.

Leaning forward, Mia laid her head onto her crossed arms and sighed audibly as the stress of the day finally caught up with her. Exhausted and emotionally drained, she wanted nothing more than to crawl into her bed and sleep for a solid ten hours, but at the rate the day was going that was not likely to happen any time soon. Turning her head ever so slightly without raising it up, she peered over at Mae and saw that she had lit the oil lamp sitting in the center of the table and realized that night had officially fallen outside.

“How're you doing, sweetheart?” Mae asked worriedly as she reached over to smooth back a wayward tendril of Mia's hair with the loving touch of a mother, despite not being Mia's. “You look tired, are you not sleeping?”

“Not much,” Mia admitted, closing her eyes to enjoy the feel of Mae stroking her hair lightly. She had always been a sucker when it came to someone playing with her hair and had every intention of enjoying the feeling for as long as Mae wanted to oblige her. “Micah's not been doing very well lately, seems night is the worst, so sleep has been iffy.”

“I’ve noticed he's been absent more and more these days,” Mae replied, her concern for his well-being evident in her voice. “I know you worry, Mia, but you have to take care of yourself, too.”

“I know. I know,” Mia replied with a slight smile, having heard the speech more than once from her mother in law, even before the end of the world. “I can't save everyone, Mae. You've told me that more than once.”

“Sometimes you have to let someone save you,” Mae retorted, with only a slight tinge of exasperation in her words.

Mia didn't bother to reply to her comment, instead opting to close her eyes and catch a half second nap, but the sound of the front door clicking shut caught her attention and had her lifting her head up off the table. From her vantage point, Mia could see the bathroom better than the front of the house, so she had no idea who came inside the house, but Mae could.

“He seems like someone who could help with that,” Mae said softly, obviously keeping her comment between the two of them. Without offering up any explanation to her comment, Mae pushed away from the table and stood up. “I'm going to go check on the kiddos.”

Halfway protesting, Mia started to push back from the table to go help, when Daryl rounded the corner from the living room into the kitchen. The relief that rushed through her at the sight of him scared the shit out of her and Mia wondered when Daryl had become so important to her, she honestly couldn't recall when having him around became something other than an annoyance, but she was glad that it had happened.

Looking past him, she saw the curvature of his bow sticking up over his shoulder and felt her eyes widen at the discovery. “How'd you get that back?”

“Gage.”

It wasn't like she expected a half hour speech on how the crossbow had been given back to him, but damn, something more than one single word would have been nice. Scowling, Mia said, “Duh. The only way you get weapons around here is if he says so, but how in the hell did you get it back?”

“I'll tell you later,” Daryl replied, his refusal of an explanation doing nothing to lighten her sour mood. He obviously picked up on her annoyance and added, “We'll talk when we get home. When we're alone.”

Something about the way he phrased that response sent chills over Mia's skin and not in a frightened fashion, more like the thought of them being alone together had her insides liquefying in a purely sexual nature. Of course, the embrace that Blake had interrupted earlier had done little to nothing to quell the fire that had been building inside her body in regards to Daryl over the past few weeks. Nope, all that had done was stoke those flames even higher.

“Where's the kids?” Daryl asked as he slipped the crossbow off his back and leaned it against the kitchen table, before slinging a leg over the chair that Mae had just vacated and sinking down onto it. “They tell you how they ended up with the group?”

“Mae's with them in the bathroom, trying to scrub off a couple weeks in the woods.” Mia gestured over her shoulder with her thumb. “And, no. They aren't talking. Not a word.”

“Don't blame 'em, I guess. Gotta be scared.” Daryl shrugged and glanced past Mia, not exactly looking at anything in particular, more like he appeared to be thinking things over. After a moment of silence, he asked, “You gonna stay here tonight?”

“We haven't got that far,” Mia replied, as Mae walked back into the room.

“She is most certainly not staying the night,” Mae informed the both of them. “Mia needs to get some rest.”

“Mae, I can't leave you here tonight. That wouldn't be fair,” Mia protested with a shake of her head. It was completely out of the question to ask Mae to babysit the new kids while she ran off and slept. “I'll stay here tonight. It's fine.”

The look she was met with on Mae's face told her plain as day that arguing would be a waste of her time and breath, but that didn't mean that the woman wasn't going to verbalize that, too, just to make sure her point got made. “Absolutely not. You look like a stiff wind could knock you down at any moment, Mia. You may not be my kid, but don't think for second I don't think of you as one, young lady. Plus, what if Micah needs you in the middle of the night? You said yourself that he hasn't been doing well the past few nights.”

Talk about not playing fair, Mia thought. Conceding, she asked, “Are you staying here? Do you want me to go grab anything for you?”

“I'm going to take them home with me. I think that staying in this house, with all these girls, might be a bit overwhelming. It's much calmer at home with just me and Ollie.” Mae took two steps forward and met Mia after she stood up from the kitchen table, enveloping her in a comforting hug that Mia eagerly sank in to. After pressing a kiss to Mia's cheek, Mae stepped back and said, “Get some rest. I'll need some help tomorrow with everyone.”

After stopping by the bathroom to tell the kids goodnight and receiving nothing in return but a matching stares, Mia followed Daryl out of the house and into the night. The moon hung heavy in the sky, a night away from being full, and lit the walk back to their house with ease. She was only slightly surprised when he bypassed the front door and instead, walked around to the sun porch at the rear of the house. Knowing that he wanted to be alone to talk about how he got back the crossbow, Mia followed him without question, an act that was becoming more and more normal with each day she was with him.

Sinking down on to the old day bed that served as outdoor furniture on the porch, Mia had no way of preparing for the story that Daryl dropped on her. With each sentence out of his mouth, her mind spun and her heart sank, because the story he was telling her about Gage did not coincide with the man she believed him to have become. In fact, the Gage in Daryl's story, while slightly twisted with his course of action with Daryl, did not seem like the man that was collecting children to sell them off to the highest bidder.

And, if that wasn't the case, then who the hell was the person behind the scheme and how in the hell did they proceed from here?


	37. Chapter 37

_“Can you see without eyes?  
Can you speak without lies?  
I wanna drink from your naked fountain,  
I can drown your sorrows  
I'm gonna burn, burn you to life now  
Out of the chains that bind you.”_

__

_Stone Temple Pilots “Wicked Garden”_

Tucked away on the sun porch at the rear of the house, one of the few relatively private places available to the two of them, Daryl stood rooted in place by the screen door while Mia paced nervously the length of the narrow room. Not that he blamed her for being anxious after he told her about the conversation he'd had with Gage earlier in the evening, but damn, her barely contained anxiety was leaking over onto him and making his own nerves frazzled.

“Mia, sit down,” he ordered, his voice as gravelly as always, but commanding. “You keep up that pacing, you're gonna wear a damned hole in the floor.”

The comment earned him one of Mia's famous glares, but since she did as she was told, he looked past the bitchy expression and focused on the problem at hand. “You got any idea what he's up to? Heard anything?”

“If I'd heard something, I would have already told you about it,” Mia bit back sarcastically, before leaning her head against the metal railing of the old day bed. Cutting her eyes at him once more, the look in her gaze only slightly less annoyed than it had been when he had ordered her to stop pacing, Mia pointed out the obvious, “You're the one that's supposed to be getting buddy-buddy with him and trying to find out what the hell is going on. I take it that mission has failed royally?”

Daryl kept his mouth shut, not wanting to let on that he had spilled the beans about their plan to Micah and that he was the one that was supposed to be sticking to Gage like hot glue in order to find out what was going on. The very last thing he needed or wanted to do at that moment was to royally piss off the already irritated woman sitting across the room from him. Instead, he shrugged his shoulders and admitted his own failure, “He ain't said shit to me. Didn't exactly seem at ease tonight though. Something was definitely up with him.”

Clearly interested and eager to find out what the hell was going on, Mia sat up and pushed to the edge of the bed. “What do you mean? What was going on?”

“Hell, it ain't like they clued me in to what was going on.” Daryl lifted his right hand to his mouth and gnawed on the edge of one frayed nail for a moment, before adding, “It was just a feeling I got. Like he's worried about something. Maybe that's why he gave me back the bow? He knows something's about to happen and he wants me to be able to keep you safe?”

Thanks to the nearly full moon hanging in the sky just of the back porch, Daryl could easily see the expression on Mia's face as it changed from anxious to determine as she stood up from the bed. He cursed mentally at the thought of having to suffer through her pacing once more, but thankfully she only crossed the space between them to stand closer to him by the back door.

“We've got to do something, anything to find out what the hell is going on in his house. Standing around waiting for someone to do something isn't working and he sure as hell isn't flapping his lips to you about what's going on, so we've got to up our game,” Mia said with wide eyes, but the nervous licking of her lips was the only thing Daryl was able to focus on for half a second before his mind processed what she was saying.

“There ain't much we can do. Like you said, they ain't talking. Unless Gage comes out and tells us whatever he's up to or what's going on, I don't see how we're gonna figure it out on our own.” Of course, he should have known by the expression on her face that Mia's brain was already concocting a plan, but thanks to lack of sleep lately and a thorough case of hormones coursing through his veins from their encounter earlier in the day, he missed the telltale sign of her mental scheming.

“There's always something that can be done, Daryl. Always.” Mia countered as she took a step towards the house. With her hand on the knob to the backdoor, Mia paused before pushing it open and said, “And if you're not able to help me, then I'll just figure it out on my own.”

“I didn't say nothing about not helping,” Daryl ground out, aggravated with the sheer pigheadedness of the woman he had been tasked to take care of. “I just said I ain't sure how the hell we're gonna figure out what's going on and how to deal with it.”

“Don't worry, I'll take care of it. Somehow. I’m just not sure exactly what I'm gonna do, but I know I am damned tired of sitting around and twiddling my thumbs.” Pushing the door open, she took the two steps up into the house and held the door open for him to follow, which he did obediently.

Later that night, long after everyone else in the house had tucked themselves into their own beds and fallen asleep, Daryl laid wide awake on the couch and stared at the shadows on the ceiling in contemplation. Hours into his silent contemplation, a soft thud sounded from somewhere upstairs, a sound so soft that had he been asleep he might have missed it. But, thanks to a serious case of insomnia, he was awake to hear it. Chalking the sound up to Mia switching rooms as she often did, he brushed the sound aside, since it was followed by a stretch of silence, and went back to his private musings about life, their current mystery and the contemplation of Mia.

However, another thud sounding from upstairs pulled him out of his thoughts and to the edge of the couch to listen for other sounds. The scrape of wood and a damn near whispered curse had him on his feet, crossbow in hand and headed towards the stairs, when his mind snapped a light bulb on and figured out what the hell was going on upstairs. Changing course, he did an about face and headed towards the front door instead, twisting the doorknob with utmost care and stealthily sneaking out onto the porch with all the silence of a ninja, as he hunted his quarry.

Slipping around the massive hydrangea bush on the side of the house, he slid into the shadows the beastly plant provided and waited for the cause of the sounds upstairs to shimmy down the trellis that connected the ground to the second story window above his head. As Mia tiptoed past him, dressed head to toe in skin tight black clothing, he bit his tongue and held back the urge to curse and yell at her for the plan she had concocted. The plan that he should have expected and planned accordingly to dismantle.

With his crossbow tucked over his shoulder, Daryl reached out and snagged Mia, wrapping one hand around her bicep, while slipping the palm of his other hand over her mouth to muffle the surprised outburst he knew she would let loose. Sure enough, her curse was muffled, but the backwards kick to his shinbone was not expected and it took every ounce of self-control not to scream out his displeasure at the pain shooting through his right leg. Pushing aside the stinging pain, he managed to wrangle Mia towards the back of the house, keeping her somewhat silent until they got passed the white painted privacy fence. Even then, he only dropped his hand from her mouth and growled, “Don't even argue with me.”

With his hand still wrapped around her bicep, Daryl damn near dragged Mia towards the sun porch they had only vacated a couple of hours before. Snatching open the screen door, he shoved her ahead of him with enough force that she stumbled across the narrow room before catching her footing and pivoting to face him with full on rage.

“Goddamnit, Daryl! You scared the fucking hell out of me,” Mia hissed angrily, her eyes flashed with rage. “What the actual hell were you thinking?”

“Me?” Daryl repeated incredulously, his own anger at her complete ignorance mounting in triplicate. Stomping forward, he closed the distance between them, until the only thing that could pass between their bodies was a whisper. Glaring at her, he ground his teeth together and growled, “The fuck were you thinking?”

“I was fucking thinking that I was sick and damned tired of sitting around with my thumb up my ass,” Mia growled in return, her voice steaming with anger, but the desire to not wake up the rest of the house kept her voice at an fury filled hiss, instead of an all-out scream, in an attempt to not wake anyone else in the house.

“By doing what? Getting yourself killed?” Daryl clenched his fists at his side and refused to back down, the both of them entirely too stubborn to allow themselves to take a breather and diffuse the situation a bit before continuing the conversation. “That's a real fucking smart plan.”

“It is a smart plan, actually. Gage writes everything down, Daryl. Every fucking little thing. If he knows what's going on or has any part in it, he has it written down somewhere. All I have to do is find it.” Mia smirked and the simple expression infuriated Daryl more than he already was. “I don't know why I didn't think about it before. I could kick myself for not looking for it months ago.”

“Yeah, real fucking bright. Sneak into his damned house, get caught. Sure that's a good plan.” Daryl shook his head at the absurdity of Mia's plan, although he had to admit that finding Gage's diary wasn't the worst idea. Not that he would ever admit it to Mia that he would take to the grave. “It's a good damned way to get your ass killed.”

“Why the fuck do you even care? Fine, he kills me. That just means you're off the damned hook, right? No more babysitting duty,” Mia countered, her chest heaving from the deep breaths her anger was making her take and damned, the way her breasts pushed against the tight fabric was quite a picture and enough to distract him for literally half a second. Or, rather, long enough to annoy Mia even more than she already was, and his attention was dragged back up to her face when she placed the palms of her hands on his chest and shoved him as hard as she could. “Fucking answer my question, asshole. Why the fuck do you even care what happens to me? Huh? It's not like you want to be here with me. Why do you care?”

That was the actual problem, wasn't it? He did care. That was the issue that was causing so much damned turmoil inside of Daryl. He cared for Mia far more than he ever intended or wanted and it was eating him up inside. But, it wasn't like he could admit it to her at that moment, not when she was wailing on him with the palms of her hands and rage was etched on her face as she fought back the obvious urge to scream out her frustrations at him. In fact, as she slapped at him, the last thing he wanted to do was admit to Mia that somehow over the course of the time they had been sequestered together, his feelings for her had taken a complete one-eighty and he had no fucking clue how to deal with them.

Luckily, the anger that was still seething inside of him at catching her sneaking out the damned window was still present. So, instead of dealing with the other feelings that filled his heart and confused the fuck out of him, Daryl wrapped the anger that he was so accustomed to around himself like a warm and cozy blanket and let it loose. Snatching her hands, he pushed them away from his chest and held them tightly by her sides.

“Quit fucking hitting me,” Daryl growled, his voice as gravelly and full of grit as always. Their bodies were pressed so close together that he could feel every inhalation of breath she took and he mentally cursed at the way his cock hardened at the feel of her tight nipples that pressed into his chest with each breath she took. Mia fought against his hold, thrashed against him in frustration and hissed in anger at being held against her will, all moves that did nothing to alleviate the mounting attraction growing for her within him. She was a fighter, strong and relentless, and those qualities were quite appealing to Daryl Dixon, but the way she kicked at his damned shins with her sneakers were not. Tightening his hold on her wrists, he growled in anger at her once more, his words a hot whisper against her skin as the distance between them lessened even more. “I said quit fucking hitting me.”

“You don't own me! Quit telling me what to do,” Mia ground out breathlessly, as she struggled in his hold. Her hazel eyes flashed in the low light, the gold in them as powerful as the tiger that she resembled in her ferocity. And then she licked her lips, the tip of her pink tongue darting out to swipe across the plumpness of her mouth, and all reason went out the proverbial window.

Afterwards, when he would lay on the couch alone and reflect over what had happened between them, he wouldn't be able to recall exactly who it was that made that first move. The kiss would be a blur to him, a haze of sexual tension and anger, the resolution of their emotions coming together in a frenzied moment of glory. Two bodies coming together, two people taking their frustrations out on one another, losing themselves in the feel of sex and pushing aside the stress and tension of the real world.Later, in the dark, he would think about the way she tasted, the way her body felt as it wrapped around him, the way their sex smelled and drove his inner caveman wild, and suffer through the guilt that followed.

But, at that moment on the sun porch, bathed in the light of the near full moon just outside, Daryl fell into the woman in his arms and allowed her to devour him whole.


	38. Chapter 38

_“Undress your body, hold it over my head  
because you know that if you knock then  
I'll always let you in  
I've been numb for so long that I forgot how to feel  
so I don't care if it will break my heart.”_

__

Motionless In White “Contemptress” 

Tucked away inside the screened in porch at the rear of the house, bathed in the light from the full moon hanging heavy in the night sky, Mia could not pin point the exact moment that the sheer annoyance coursing through her veins for Daryl changed to something more rich, more powerful, more sensual, but that was exactly what had happened. Wrapped in his arms, pressed against his body, the desire she had felt for him that had been mounting over the past few weeks together bubbled up and spilled over and was no longer a force that could be contained.

One minute she had been slithering down the trellis, intent on breaking into Gage's well-secured home to search for a diary that she was not even certain existed. Not the most brilliant plan she had ever concocted, but it had been a plan nonetheless. Sure, she had been flying high on a hope and a prayer, likely on her way to a certain death, but damned if she wasn't tired of sitting around the house twiddling her thumbs, while waiting for a solution to present itself. But then, her harebrained scheme had been thwarted, her half-assed plans tossed to the side, when Daryl had slunk out of the shadows like a goddamned ninja and dragged her back to the house to chastise her like a child who had been caught breaking curfew, like he was her damned father or something.

And, that's when it happened, the surprising twist to the night. In the blink of an eye, the anger steaming in her blood changed and burned brighter, morphing into a raging bonfire of lust that could not be controlled. Nope, the flames of desire that licked and burned through her body, scorching her from the inside out, refused to be dampened and fighting that urge to crawl up Daryl's body and consume him completely only made the heat inside of her intensify.

While Mia wasn't one hundred percent certain who initiated the lust filled kiss, she was fairly sure it was her, like ninety-nine percent sure, but she was damn elated that her actions had not been rejected by Daryl. Instead of pushing her away, his lips crushed against hers hungrily, each of them eager to satiate the need growing inside their bodies.

Moaning sensually against his lips, Mia buried her hands in the thick hair at the nape of Daryl's neck and all but crawled up his body. When his hands slid down to cup her ass and pull her towards him, as if they weren't already pressed completely against one another, Mia let his strength ease her feet off the ground so she could wrap her legs around his narrow waist. Clinging to him, Mia sucked his lower lip into her mouth and nibbled lightly on it before thrusting her tongue inside to tangle with his.

So lost in the moment, she never realized that they were slowly moving across the porch and only noticed the short journey when her back was suddenly pressed against the hard wood of the backdoor. The new position gave Daryl more leverage to explore her body, as her weight was lessened with the assistance of the door. His hands were hot as they explored her figure, the temperature of his skin evident despite the fact that he had only caressed her through her clothes and Mia just knew that his touch would be like fire when he finally laid his hands on her skin.

His arousal for her pressed tightly against her center, teasing the ache between her thighs and driving her mad with desire. She needed him to touch her, to fill her body with himself and drive away the maddening lust that clouded her mind and controlled her completely. Arching into Daryl, Mia ground against him as she suckled on his bottom lip again, this time biting down harder as she moaned deeply from the pleasure screaming through her veins.

Dropping her hands, she tugged at the hem of his shirt, desperate to feel the hard planes of his body beneath the faded blue cotton. Her hands had barely eased beneath the fabric, her fingers managing only the slightest touch of the warm skin of his belly, when Daryl pulled away from her and she had to drop her feet to the floor to keep from falling on her ass. Shocked at the sudden change of position, and more than a little bit annoyed at Daryl's actions, Mia's chest heaved as she struggled to catch her breath. Glaring at him in confusion, she saw that he was having just as much trouble catching his breath as she was, as he stared back at her hungrily from beneath the thatch of dark bangs.

“What,” she managed to ask between gulps of air, but her question was cut off and she realized that an answer was not needed when Daryl reached out and tugged her towards him roughly and flipped her around so that she faced the doorway. Despite the heat in the air, the small square piece of glass in the doorway window was cool as it pressed against her forehead, and while she was still as confused as ever at Daryl's actions when she tried to take off his shirt, Mia gave in to the feel of his hard body pressed against her back and pushed aside the questions lingering on the tip of her tongue.

His calloused hands were rough against her heated skin as they slipped beneath the hem of her shirt to caress the area above the waistband of her pants. She trembled at the touch and eased her hips away from the door enough to allow him the access his hands searched for. When Daryl's fingers deftly flicked open the button of her pants and his hand slipped beneath the edge of her cotton panties to rest at the juncture between her legs, Mia nearly passed out from the simple touch. It had been too long since she had felt the touch of a man, long before the outbreak, since her husband had been deployed the year before the world fell apart, and her body ached for the connection.

A strangled cry escaped her lips when his fingertip slid over her clit and a shock wave of desire cascaded through her body at the sensation. Desperate for him, Mia pressed back against Daryl and whispered a plea for him to take her. Her body was ready for him, eager to feel the hard length of his need inside of her, the need inside of her so great that foreplay would only torture her further. Exploring one another, teasing and playing with each other’s body could come later, because if he didn't fuck her right then and there, Mia thought she might just explode.

Thankfully, Daryl was a man of action and few words, because instead of questioning her eagerness, he simply removed his hand from her underwear to grasp the edge of her waistband and tug them, along with her pants, down far enough to gain entrance to her body. Mia whimpered with need at the sound of his belt buckle rattling as he unhooked his own pants, and a wave of moisture flooded her thighs when the heated skin of his cock fell out of his jeans to press against the curve of her ass.

His touch was rough when he grabbed her waist and tugged her ass back towards him. Mia groaned and pressed her forehead against the coolness of the windowpane in hopes that it might cool her down, but when the head of his cock nudged at her entrance, she knew that nothing but satiating the need for Daryl would alleviate the heat in her body. Spreading her legs as wide as she could, the tight material of her pants around her thighs restricting her opening herself completely to him, Mia arched her back towards him.

Lovemaking this was not, instead what was about to come was nothing if not fucking. Hard, rough, fast. Two bodies hungry for the affection that neither of them wanted to crave, two people searching for pleasure in a world of shit. Both of their hearts belonged to people that they could never be with again, but right there, in that moment, their bodies could belong to one another and they could satiate the desire that burned inside of both of them.

A grunt escaped Daryl when he thrust his cock inside of her body, slamming in to the hilt with enough to force to shove Mia against the door, but she didn't care. All she cared about at that moment was Daryl's cock as it fucked her from behind, anything else was but a distant memory. He filled her tight channel fully, almost painfully, as it had been years and years since anyone had been inside her body. Mia cried out softly at the intrusion, moaning delightfully at the feel of him touching parts of her that no one had touched in ages.

His fingers tightened roughly at her sides with enough force to bruise as he pulled out and thrust back inside of her, slowly at first, but faster and with more force as his own need no doubt took over control. Desperate to release the ache between her thighs, Mia slipped one hand down her body to caress her clit, building up the desire that lived there until it bubbled up and spilled over. Biting back the scream that bubbled inside, not wanting to wake the rest of the house, Mia shivered and clawed at the faded blue paint of the backdoor as her release burned inside of her.

Thrusting harder into her body, Daryl's grunts and moans turned into his own strangled cry of release as he spilled himself inside of her. His forehead rested against the back of her head as he struggled to catch his breath and Mia could feel the sticky warmth of his release as it coated her opening and inner thighs, cooling instantly as it left her body.

Now that the desire was satiated, the air between them was no longer thick with their need, and the awkwardness of the situation that settled between them was evident as Daryl slid from her body and stepped away from her. With no way to clean herself up out on the porch, Mia pulled her pants up and adjusted her shirt while slyly staring at Daryl out of the corner of her eye, who was doing his best to regain his composure while adjusting his own clothing. When a few moments passed without a word spoken between them, Mia felt the same shame she had her first year in college with the handful of one night stands. At least back then, before she had married Brian and went on the somewhat straight and narrow, she could chalk up the embarrassment to alcohol and the poor decisions that came along with it. But now, in the moonlight night of the back porch with Daryl silence and the evidence of their fucking on her thighs and sticking to the material of her blue jeans, there was nothing she could do to explain away her behavior.

For the first time since married Brian, she had fucked another man and while logically she knew that what they had just done was perfectly acceptable, because her husband was no longer around, Mia could not help the wave of shame and heartache that washed over her. And, Daryl's silence and obvious discomfort did nothing to alleviate the guilt that bloomed in her heart. Tears burned in her eyes, threatening to spill over and damn it, the last thing she wanted to do at that moment was show her weakness to the man who had just fucked her and then obviously regretted it.

So, instead of allowing Daryl to see her struggling to keep her composure, Mia reached behind her to grasp the doorknob. “Goodnight,” she all but whispered, not even sure that he had heard her, as she pushed open the door and allowed the darkness of the house to swallow her whole.

As she shut the door slowly, not wanting to wake her brother or Blake, but also holding on to that sliver of hope that Daryl would stop her from leaving, Mia watched as he turned and headed in the opposite direction without saying a word. The sound of the screen door slapping closed echoed through her and put a tiny crack in her heart. Allowing the tears in her eyes to spill over, Mia shut the door and headed upstairs to bed with a heavy heart. While she had desperately wanted Daryl, the ache for him building to the point where what happened between them was inevitable, the distance between them afterwards pained her heart and she hoped that they had not destroyed the budding friendship between them by giving in to their desire.

Climbing the stairs to the bathroom, Mia stripped for her clothes and did her best to scrub away the evidence of their coupling with a wet washcloth. She was too damned exhausted to worry with taking a cold shower, plus doing so would only raise questions from her brother and Blake as to why she was doing so in the middle of the night. Once she was as clean as she could get, she pulled on her sleep clothes that hung on the back of the door and headed to her bedroom to wallow in her own guilt and heartache.


	39. Chapter 39

_“I can’t go on living this way,  
But I can’t go back the way I came.  
Chained to this fear that I will never find  
A way to heal my soul.  
And I wander ‘til the end of time  
Half alive without you.”_

_Evanescence “My Heart is Broken”_

 

As Mia was swallowed whole by the darkness of the house, Daryl stormed away in the opposite direction. The sound of the screen door slapping shut caused him to cringe and curse, hoping that the sharp sound had not woken Micah or Blake, but knowing deep down that it likely had. The silence that permeated the world in the absence of electricity and the noise that accompanied it meant that even the slightest sound was infinitely louder than it would have been before the outbreak. Shrugging it off, knowing there was nothing he could do to fix things if he had woken the rest of the house, Daryl let the bad mood stewing inside of him bubble up and boil over as he stalked across the moonlit backyard.

Hiding in one of the shadows along the fence line, Daryl sank to the ground and leaned his head back against the paint faded wood slats. Feeling like a complete shit, he stared up at the stars in the night sky that seemed duller than usual when compared to the luminous moon hanging heavy above his head. Images of Mia floated through his busy mind; the feel of her curves beneath his hands, the heat of her body as it clenched around his dick and the breathy moans of desire that slipped past her pink lips as he thrust inside of her. But, the one image that kept creeping in and wiping away the pleasurable memories was the sight of her face as she disappeared into the house.

There had been many times in his life when he had acted like an utter asshole and there was little doubt in his mind that that side of him wouldn't pop up in the future, but tonight was one of the few times when he actually felt regret for acting the way he had been raised to behave. His father had been an epic asshole. His brother had done his best to live up to their father in more ways than one, and being an asshole had been one aspect of their father that had come easy to the eldest Dixon brother. And, for many years, acting just like their dear old dad had fit Daryl like a second skin. But tonight, as he had stepped away from Mia, leaving her panting against the back door with her jean pushed down around her lovely hips to showcase that luscious ass of hers, that second nature of Daryl's had slipped back around him like a comforting blanket and he had done absolutely nothing to try to push it aside.

Nope, instead of suppressing the guilt and regret that had filled his heart only moments after he had spilled himself into Mia's body, he had let those feelings eat away at him from inside and eagerly welcomed that asshole nature he at least tried to keep at bay these days spew out towards the woman he had just thoroughly fucked. He wanted to puke at the mental image of her pleasure filled face as she turned towards him with her clothes still disheveled, because within a split second of facing him, that expression had been wiped away to be replaced with confusion and sadness when he had done nothing but shove his cock back into his pants without uttering a single word to her.

But what could he say to her when he was choking on his own regret? How could he talk to Mia when all he wanted to do was rant and rave that despite the continuously growing feelings he had for her, he was still hung up on a woman that he could not have anymore? How did one go about doing something like that? Moving on.

It wasn't like he had been raised with a fine example of a loving relationship. His parents had rarely talked to one another without sarcasm and hate dripping from their words, unless they had been fucked up on drugs and alcohol, of course. It was only when they had drank all night and snorted or shot up whatever they could buy from the nearest darkened alley that they could even tolerate one another. And, whatever peace had been brought on by the elation from drugs and alcohol had been short lived, ruined by the same pleasure that had given the household a moment's peace. Then, his parent's had become so enraged with one another that the only safe place for Daryl had been to hide in Merle's room, or in the closet the few times his brother had been in juvenile detention, until the danger had passed.

After his mother's death, Will Dixon had fully given himself over to the bottle and had only interacted with his children in the form of abuse. With his wife dead, the only other people left to take out his rage on were the two children he, as a father, was supposed to love and protect. Sadly, the scars still present on Daryl's back proved that his father had failed to care for his children on more than one occasion, since the injuries he had inflicted with a leather belt were so severe that even a solid thirty years later they had not faded in the slightest.

Love had not been a constant in Daryl's life. Hell, it had barely been there at all. When the most stable relationship he had ever been in had been with Lily Richards, a woman who had been abused far worse than he ever had, it was no wonder Daryl did not know how to handle the situation he had ended up in with Mia. While he loved Lily, and had no doubt that she had returned that love as much as she possibly could, their time together had been anything but healthy. It had taken years to realize that, but Rick had been right in his assessment long ago after he had realized what was going on between Daryl and Lily. It had been unhealthy, codependent and a quite literally, a disaster waiting to happen. Daryl had thought that the night of her death had been the worst night of his life, but figuring out how to live without her and deal with the feeling of failing to keep her safe might just be worse than the night Mathias had killed her.

Years later, far more days spent without Lily in his life than they had actually spent together, and Daryl was still suffering from her absence. So much so, that as he had spilled himself into Mia's eager and hot body, Lily's name had been on the tip of his tongue. He was glad he hadn't moaned out her name when he came, because he knew without a doubt that doing so would have been so much worse than the silence he had greeted Mia with after they had finished.

What really ate him up inside was that it was not like he was imagining Lily while he was fucking Mia. Quite the opposite actually, because for those few minutes of pleasure, he had forgotten about the pale slip of a woman with fiery red hair and finally let himself fall into the tattooed woman with luscious curves in all the right places, and had thoroughly enjoyed every single second of their coupling, until for some reason Lily's name popped up on his tongue a half of a second before he came inside of Mia with a force that nearly caused him to blackout. And that tiny mishap brought every bit of guilt in his heart over Lily, for failing her and for falling for another woman when he swore he wouldn't, caused a pain in his heart that was so great he thought it might just shatter in half.

It was that guilt, that shame, that heart wrenching regret that brought out that protective asshole nature that he so often used as a thick armor against the world. It was easier to deal with people, with the world, when you could hide behind the facade of being a total asshole and not let anyone inside.

He waited as long as he could, hiding out like a coward, but the droop to his eyelids had Daryl pushing off the ground with a groan. His age was catching up with him faster than he would like to admit and at around a handful of years to fifty, sitting on the ground for hours with nothing for cushion other than a scattering of half dead grass had caused his joints to seize up and protest at the sudden movement. Shaking his head at the absurdity of his old age, something he honestly never thought he would achieve thanks to his lifestyle both before and after the outbreak, Daryl meandered across the yard and headed back into the thankfully silent house.

After leaning the crossbow he had retrieved off the sun porch against the coffee table, he lowered his aching limbs on to the couch that would likely offer up no reprieve and closed his eyes. It took longer than he expected, but as the sky started lightening with the arrival of the morning sun, Daryl slipped off into a fitful sleep that was unlikely to give him the rest his body and mind so desperately needed.

Hours later, judging by the position of the sun and shadows filling the living room, Daryl was awakened by the sound of boots clamoring down the stairs. Based on the heavy clomp of the tread against each stair, he could tell that the person coming down was not Mia, but beyond that he had no clue as to if it was Micah or Blake. Cracking one eye, he shoved a thatch of sweat dampened bangs out of his line of sight and saw that it was Blake heading towards the kitchen. He was thankful that it had not been Mia, but Daryl wasn't stupid and knew he was going to have to face the proverbial music with her at some point soon.

“Morning!” Blake called out far too damn chipper when he realized Daryl was awake. Holding up a chunk of bread in the cut out above the kitchen sink that looked out into the living room, the ginger haired young man asked, “You hungry? Thought I'd make something to take up to Micah. Wouldn't take too much extra to throw together for you, too.”

“No, thanks,” Daryl mumbled, closing his eye once more as he tried to find a position that might be comfortable enough to allow him to fall back asleep for a few more minutes. Unfortunately, about a split second after he located such a spot, Blake piped up once more.

“Mia's on her way down. Said there's some things she needs to take care of, didn't say what, but figure you'd be tagging along,” Blake called out as the sounds of plates and cups being dealt with filled the air around him.

Giving up on getting any more sleep, Daryl pushed up into a seated position about the same time Mia started jogging down the stairs. Dread filled his heart as she stepped down on to the foyer landing and their gazes connected. Judging by the dark smears of exhaustion beneath her bloodshot eyes, she had gotten even less sleep than he had. Pain jabbed at his chest when he realized that the redness surrounding her hazel eyes had more to do with the tears she had cried during the night and less to do with the lack of sleep. He absolutely could not stand it when women cried, it was his own personal kryptonite, and the only saving grace at that moment was that she had done so behind closed doors and he had not had to witness it.

“Good morning,” Mia finally said to him after a handful of agonizingly silent heartbeats, but the ice clinging to her words let him know just how upset she was with him. “I've got to run over to the girl's house and check on them, see what all they need food-wise and go grab things to stock their pantry. After that, I'm going to talk to Gage.”

“You think that's the best idea?” Daryl asked as he shoved his feet into the boots he had only removed a couple of hours ago and stood up from the couch.

“It's the only one I've got at the moment,” Mia bit out as she stepped into the kitchen and accepted an apple from Blake to carry with her. It was obvious that she wasn't going to say anything about what happened between them with her friend in the room and for that, Daryl was thankful. He certainly wasn't ready to deal with it, much less with an audience.

“I don't want you to go with me,” Mia hissed out when Blake headed upstairs to take food to Micah. Pushing past Daryl, heading for the front door, she added quietly, “But, I know Gage will flip otherwise, so just keep your distance.”

Grabbing his crossbow, Daryl hurried after her with an argument on the tip of his tongue, but when Mia opened the door to find Heather standing on the porch, he bit back his words. Hovering behind Mia, so close that he could smell the green apple scent of the shampoo she had grabbed from the supply house the week before, he eyeballed Heather curiously, wondering why she was at their door at such an early hour.  
Unfortunately, he didn't have to wait long for an answer.

“Gage needs you,” Heather said instantly, barely giving Mia a chance to step over the threshold. Worry filled her eyes as she reached out and grabbed Mia's hand to tug her towards the sidewalk. “Emily's missing.”

Emily.

One of the kids who had been with Mary when their parents had been butchered and the kids had been taken away to be sold to the highest bidder. The defiant teen who was just exiting her first trimester of pregnancy and adamantly refused to tell anyone who the father of her baby was.

Daryl wasn't a fortune teller, but something in his gut told him it wasn't an accident that she was suddenly nowhere to be found, and judging by the expression on Mia's face, neither did she.


	40. Chapter 40

_"My best defense,  
Running from you  
I can’t resist, take all you want from me  
Breaking Slowly."_

__

_Red “Already Over”_

When morning came bursting into her bedroom, streaming its rays of sunlight into her bedroom bright enough to roust her from a fitful slumber, Mia rolled over groggily and glared at her open window, as though the day gave a shit how she felt about being woken up. Grumbling at the unwelcome intrusion, Mia sat up and dangled her legs off the side of the bed, to where the majority of her bedding lay in a heap on the floor. Long ago, she had pushed the thick comforter she used in the cold months off the bed, but in the heat of summer she had added the thin top sheet to the pile as well. If the heat didn't break soon, the bottom sheet might join the party and she would just sleep on the bare mattress.

After only a handful of hours of sleep, most of which had been spent tossing and turning, Mia felt less than rested and far crankier than she typically was in the morning. Of course, she knew the real reason behind her foul mood and it was not the lack of sleep, but had been at least partially responsible for the cause of her lackluster slumber. Between the anger she felt at being brushed aside by Daryl the second he had come inside of her, the embarrassment that followed and the illogical guilt she felt for cheating on her husband, most people would have had a hard time falling asleep. But, add in the thick humidity that accompanied the sweltering southern summertime heat without air conditioning and restful sleep was just wishful thinking.

A fine sheen of sweat already coated her skin and morning had barely started. The thought of how miserably hot it would be later in the day only made Mia's mood worse. Oh, how she craved winter. Sure, it was cold, but she could layer on clothes to keep moderately warm. There was only so much a person could take off before they were completely nude. At least the laws against doing so in public were no longer an issue, but she still wasn't keen on the idea of parading around town in her birthday suit. She could, however, walk straight out the front gates and go swimming now, since Gage had relented on her prison stay inside the gates, so long as she took Daryl with her. Of course, that aspect of her plan ruined her mood even further.

Growling in frustration, Mia gathered up clothes for the day and snatched her towel off the back of the door. It made absolutely no sense to take a shower before starting her day when she was just going to end up coated in sweat immediately after she toweled off, but she felt grimy and sticky, thanks to the sweat from the heat and the unfortunate aftermath of having sex without a condom. She had, of course, tried to clean up as best as she could afterwards, but only an honest to goodness shower was going to take care of matters now. So, armed with everything she needed to get ready, Mia marched out of her bedroom and straight into Blake.

“Oomph,” she muttered in surprise when they collided in the hallway. Gripping the items in her hand a bit tighter to keep them from falling to the floor, Mia apologized, “Sorry, B, I didn't mean to just barrel into you.”

“It's okay,” Blake replied with a good-natured smile, his unnatural happiness in the morning grated on her nerves even more than usual, thanks to her foul mood. “Showering already?”

“It's hot, I want a shower,” Mia grumbled, thankful for the excuse of sweaty skin, so that she didn't have to explain the sticky skin situation between her thighs. The very last thing she wanted to do was let anyone know that she had given in to her hormones the night before and let Daryl hump her against the damned kitchen door. Moving past the subject, she asked, “You going to the kitchen?”

“Yeah, you hungry? Want me to fix you something?” Blake asked, even though she typically didn't eat anything at all, or if she did it was usually something small and easy to grab on the way out the door.

“Nah, not hungry,” Mia fibbed, as she was kind of hungry, but her nerves were also balled in the pit of her stomach over the thought of dealing with Daryl at some point and she wasn't sure eating was the best idea. “Could you fix Micah something though? He barely ate a thing at dinner last night and he needs to eat. I can do it if you don't want to. I just have to go talk to Gage, but I need to run by the girl's house to see if they need anything first, and you know how it is with Gage, the earlier you get there the better.”

“Yeah, sure. No problem.” Blake started towards the stairs, but glanced back at her with his hand closed around the railing. “You okay? Seem, I don't know, weird this morning.”

“I just didn't sleep well,” Mia said, not bothering to explain as to why she hadn't slept well. Lord knows she had plenty on her plate to cause her to not sleep at night, and that was without adding issues with Daryl to the equation. “I'll be better after a shower, I promise.”

“If you need to talk,” Blake said, trailing off without adding that he was available to listen to her woes. Mia was more than aware that Blake was a good listener and a damn fine shoulder to cry on, which she had not done in a very long time. But, the latest issue in her life that was giving her trouble was not something she felt like sharing, even with her best friend. Mia was certain she was breaking some sort of best friend code, but at that moment she didn't care. Daryl and their moment of insanity was something she fully intended on taking to her grave, whenever that day came.

“I know and thank you, but honestly, I'm fine,” Mia offered up, knowing that somehow her promises of being fine fell flat, because even her voice sounded weird to her. So, in order to keep any further questions at bay, she simply offered up a smile to Blake and darted across the landing to the momentary safety of the bathroom.

After a bone chilling cold shower that would have normally made her mood worse, Mia stepped from the bathroom feeling at least slightly better than she had after waking up. Without a fifth of whiskey, she was as ready as she was ever going to be to face the day and Daryl. After putting her dirty clothes and wet towel in her bedroom, Mia took a deep breath and clamored down the stairs with her proverbial big girl panties on. Of course, the moment she reached the bottom of the stairs and their gazes connected, the butterflies in her belly turned into condors and her traitorous body heated up at the mere sight of him.

Damned hormones, she thought to herself as she forced her feet to move forward. “Good morning,” she finally managed to say after a painful moment of awkward silence. The ice on her voice was evident and she honestly had not meant to sound like such a bitch, especially with Blake in the other room and more than close enough to hear what was going on between them and smart enough to put two and damned two together and figure out what was causing her weird mood. Mia bit back the apology on the tip of her tongue and turned towards the kitchen to where Blake was standing in the doorway, taking in the conversation with curious eyes. “I've got to run over to the girl's house and check on them, see what all they need food-wise and go grab things to stock their pantry. After that, I'm going over to talk to Gage.”

“You think that's the best idea?” Daryl asked, and if the sound of his voice wasn't enough to grate on her nerves in the mood she was in, then the added doubt in his voice sure as hell was.

“It's the only one I've got at the moment,” Mia snapped out in response to his question as she accepted an apple from Blake, who tried his best to convey a questioning message to her with a simple look, but she was too annoyed to play that game with him at the moment. Thankfully, when she ignored his attempt, Blake gave up and headed towards the stairs with a tray of food held carefully in his tightly gripped hands. No doubt he felt slighted at being left out of whatever was going on, but Mia just couldn't deal with his hurt feelings right then.

Once he was out of earshot, she glared at Daryl and hissed, “I don't want you to go with me.” Pushing past him, she headed towards the front door and added quietly, But, I know Gage will flip otherwise, so just keep your distance.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Daryl snatch his crossbow up from where it rested against the coffee table and head after her, thankfully silent, although the look on his face clearly showed her that he was not pleased with her decisions at that moment. Which, to her, was some damned karma, because she was less than thrilled with his decisions the night before. With him so damned close she could smell the musky scent of his sweaty skin, she pushed aside the tingle of desire that flared up inside of her and snatched open the front door with far more force than was necessary. When she found Heather standing on the other side, she failed at keeping the yelp of surprise contained.

“Gage needs you,” Heather said immediately, not even giving her the chance to say hello. Stepping out onto the porch, Mia knew that Daryl had followed behind her, because she could literally feel the heat emanating from his body as he violated her personal space in a way that had her both sexually frustrated and annoyed with him. But, the next words out of Heather's mouth pushed all of Mia's other troubles to the side. “Emily's missing.”

Despair pooled in the pit of her stomach at the announcement and while she had no clue as to what the circumstances of Emily's disappearance were, something told her that they weren't good at all. Worried and on the verge of panic, Mia jogged towards the girl's house, knowing without being told that was where Gage was. Rounding the corner, she picked up her pace when her eyes landed on Gage's massive form pacing across the front yard as he emphatically gestured his frustration to the group of men crowding around him.

“What happened? Where is she?” Mia asked Gage after she pushed past the throng of bodies surrounding him, the panic inside of her clawing up and spilling out into the tone of her questions. While her childhood best friend was known to be a raging asshole on a good day, the anxiousness and concern on his face showed her that he cared about the missing teen and warmed her heart towards him slightly.

“She's gone, Mia. I don't know where, I don't know what happened or how, but she's gone.” Gage said as he motioned for the people around him to get busy doing whatever it was that they had been ordered to do, leaving him alone with her, and of course, Daryl. “When's the last time you saw her?”

“Yesterday, after lunch, I think. She was tired and wanted to lay down,” Mia explained. While she didn't want to spill the secret she had been keeping quiet, she knew in her heart that Emily's disappearance had something to do with her pregnancy and therefor, it needed to be brought to light if they were going to find her. “She's pregnant, Gage.”

“What?” Gage asked, oddly calm, but what came out of his mouth after that one question was anything but. His long, thick curly hair wasn't contained by its usual hair band and swirled wildly around his angry face as he berated her for not telling him Emily's condition beforehand. “What in the fuck do you mean she's fucking pregnant? How in the hell could you keep that from me, Mia? Who the fuck do you think you are around here, huh? I deserve to fucking know what's going on with my girls!”

“Who the fuck do I think I am? I think I'm the fucking person those girls trust to take care of them Gage, and not treat them like their god damned prisoners here. That's who the fuck I think I am,” Mia shouted in return, earning her more than a few curious sets of eyes from the windows of the house where the girl's lived. She knew she was probably scaring some of the younger ones, so she lowered her voice and channeled her inner calm. “She was scared, Gage. I did what I thought was best at the time.”

“They aren't damn prisoners, Mia. I'm just trying to keep them safe.” The rage was still evident in the tone of his voice, but Gage had at least lowered his voice for the moment.

“Are you?” Mia asked quietly, honestly surprising even herself for asking the question. But, it was one that needed to be answered and so she asked it again. “Are you really, Gage? Is that what you're doing, keeping them safe? They feel like prisoners here, kept under lock and key, day in and day out. What did you expect?”

“Obviously I'm not, otherwise Emily wouldn't be missing,” Gage replied, sidestepping her questions altogether. “Who's the father?”

“I don't know, she wouldn't tell me. Said I'd get mad at her.” Mia shrugged, knowing that she would have gotten mad, because the only male at the facility that was anywhere near Emily's age was Ollie and Mia was more than certain that painfully shy, nearly mute Ollie wasn't the father. “Is anyone else missing? Maybe she ran off with the baby's father, knowing she was going to start showing soon and wouldn't be able to hide the pregnancy much longer.”

“No one else is missing. We did a head count,” Gage replied grimly, the look he gave her let Mia know he was thinking the same thing she was, the absolute fucking worst outcome.

“If everyone is here, then she either left alone or,” Mia trailed off, not wanting to verbalize the horrors her mind was coming up with, but Gage finished the sentence for her.

“Or, someone killed her.”


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for everyone's patience on getting the next updates out. I went on vacation and while I took my laptop to write, I did a self imposed social media/ internet vacation as well, so no posting anywhere. There will be two chapters tonight to make up for my lack of posting while I was gone, I just have to get the next one edited, so there will be 41 and 42 tonight. Thanks again and hope you guys enjoy the updates!

_"I can't escape this hell_  
So many times I've tried  
But I'm still caged inside  
Somebody get me through this nightmare  
I can't control myself." 

__

Three Days Grace "Animal I Have Become"

While he was curious as to what Mia and Gage were discussing heatedly, Daryl knew better than to go over and poke his head into their business. Instead, he leaned against the paint peeled picket fence that lined the yard across from them and waited for Mia to finish their conversation and head back over to him. Judging by the expressions and emphatic gestures between Gage and Mia, Daryl could tell that the situation was as dire as his gut feeling told him it was. A missing teenager was never a good thing, much less a missing pregnant teenager this day in age. Add in the fact that said teenager refused to give up the name of the man who had knocked her up and her missing status was just that more suspicious.

When Mia turned away from Gage abruptly and headed across the street in his direction, Daryl eased off the fencing and straightened while adjusting the crossbow that was slung over his back. Nodding once in the direction of Gage, he asked, “What's the situation?”

“Situation is well, dire to say the least,” Mia replied with a scowl on her face, her mood and the sun gleaming into her hazel eyes combining to create a foul expression on her otherwise attractive features. “No one's seen Em since last night at bed check and, of course, no one heard or saw anything.”

“Find that hard to believe,” Daryl muttered as he glanced up towards the house where the girl's lived and spied the handful of curious eyes peering out of the windows towards him and Mia. “That many kids in one place? Someone had to have heard something.”

“I'm sure they did, but it was Gage asking the questions and they're all scared of him. He's posting guards on the house, one inside and two outside, for the time being, so I'm not going to get anything out of them any time soon.” Mia cursed under her breathe and scowled deeper over her shoulder to where Gage was ordering his men about like good little toy soldiers. She huffed once in obvious frustration at the situation and turned her attention back to Daryl, asking in a low voice, “You track, right? That's what you do? That's how you ended up here.”

“Yeah,” he replied cautiously, not liking where the conversation was clearly going. Reading Mia's expression and already knowing what the next words out of her mouth were going to be, he pointed out the painfully obvious truth, “It ain't gonna be easy though. Don't got a clue which way she headed out, how long she's been gone, or-”

“Or, if she even made it out of here,” Mia finished his sentence with a weary sigh, but the determined look on her face never wavered, despite knowing the odds of finding Emily alive. “I have to try though. I've failed her enough already, I can't give up now. Not yet.”

“Then we do what we can with what we've got. Best place to start is last place she was seen,” Daryl replied, stepping around Mia while motioning towards the house where Emily was reported to have been the night before at bedtime. He paused just outside of the home, where Gage stood off to the opposite side of the yard with his cronies, and turned to Mia. “I ain't promising nothing.”

“I know, I just have to try.”

With Gage's dark eyes following their every move, Daryl started doing what he was trained to do, a skill he had developed as a child and honed it to near perfection over the years. Starting at the outer edge of the house, he followed the minuscule signs of disturbed blades of grass, broken twigs, and disturbed patches in the dirt that may or may not have belonged to the quarry he was currently hunting. Unfortunately, the day passed quickly without producing hide nor hair of the missing girl and left them miles away from the compound, in the midst of the woods, without a clear direction to follow.

“Trails gone cold,” Daryl pointed out reluctantly, not happy about the failed mission or for causing the look of despair on Mia's face. Glancing around the open area that once had likely been a green field for deer hunting, based on the lack of trees and lush grass, he growled in frustration and cursed. He hated failing, but unfortunately his hatred for doing so didn't keep it from happening far too often in his life. Turning back to Mia, he said, “I can try again tomorrow.”

Mia swiped her hands over her face, pushing the sweat dampened tendrils floating around her hairline back in the process, but they refused to be contained and simply sprung back to life in a halo of distress once she removed her hands. Beads of perspiration clung to the bow of her upper lip and damn it to hell, the sight of her licking her tongue across it caused his stomach to clench tightly with desire.

“Maybe. I dunno,” she said suddenly after a moment of silence, in which Daryl had allowed himself to become fascinated with the curve of her lips. Focused on what she was saying now, Daryl's expression was obviously as confused as he felt inside, because Mia added, “I'll talk to the girl's tonight. If I don't get something out of them, when she left, what'd she take with her, then there's no point. We'd just be wandering around in the damned heat with nothing to show for it.”

“Just let me know what you want to do,” Daryl said without argument. She was right, unless they got something more concrete out of the girl's, they'd just be chasing a ghost. Sweat trickled down his spine and his mouth felt like it had been crammed full of cotton balls, reminding him that they had not only headed out on the mission without proper supplies, but that they still had to hike back to the compound without a drop of water between them. Amateur mistake, leaving home without adequate water and food, one that he normally wouldn't have made, but when it came to dealing with Mia, his mind didn't seem to be in working order on most days. “We should head back.”

Mia stopped staring at the copse of trees in front of them and glanced up at him with gold speckled hazel eyes, staring at him silently to the point of it being on the edge of unnerving, before she randomly asked, “Do you have someone at home? Someone waiting for you? A wife?”

“I...what?” Daryl stuttered in response, beyond unprepared for the questions she was suddenly asking.

“Never mind, I'm sorry.” Mia shook her head and turned away from him, changing gears faster than his heat exhausted mind could keep up with. “You're right, we should get back. I need to talk to the girl's tonight. If Gage's men will scatter long enough for me to do so, that is. Lord knows I won't get shit out of the kids with the guards breathing down their necks.”

While the sudden change in topic was confusing, Daryl was beyond relieved when Mia switched back to the mission at hand and opted to not veer of course towards the murky waters that was his personal life back home and, most likely, what had happened between them the night before. Stepping ahead of her, he started to backtrack towards the compound and said, “We should make it back before dark if we keep up a decent pace.”

“You know, this is going to make it harder to get them out of there,” Mia pointed out, falling in just behind him as they headed back towards the beaten path that had led them to the field. “Gage is going to beef up security. Not sure how just yet, where he will take the men from, but he's going to make it infinitely more difficult to get the girl's out of that house without him knowing, much less out of the compound.”

“We'll figure it out. There's always a weak link in the system, just gonna have to figure it out and go from there,” Daryl replied, sounding far more optimistic than he actually felt. “We got how many weeks 'til he heads out for that trip?”

“Too many, easily a month or more at this point.” Mia picked up her pace, stepping up to his left side, instead of following behind him like she had while he was tracking. “After this? I'd like to get them out sooner, like within the week. I'm just not sure how that's going to work out.”

There was no point reiterating his previous statement, so Daryl simply agreed with her statement by grunting his response. His mind was too busy at the moment to plan an escape route for a group of juveniles, an elderly woman and a fairly useless man, when all he was currently worried about was getting Mia to accompany him on the trip. Leaving her behind was not an option, not one he was willing to accept and there was only one person in her life that had a chance in coercing her to leave with him and that was her brother.

So, as they wandered back in to town, exhausted, filthy and thirsty, Daryl left Mia on the doorstep to the house where the girls were getting ready for bed and headed down the street, only after making her swear that she wouldn't leave until he came back to get her. Jogging down the empty road, night settled around him and the trek towards his temporary home was lit by the final night of the full moon. Darting up the pathway to the house, he was pleased to find Micah resting on the front porch, perched in one of the wicker chairs with his boots propped up on the railing.

“We need to talk,” he muttered as he headed inside, wanting to ensure just a little more privacy inside the residence, plus chug down a glass or three of water in the process. Inside the kitchen, he filled a glass with water with shaky hands and chugged it in the time it took Micah to make his way to the kitchen.

“I heard about Emily. How's Mia taking it?” Micah asked, leaning a hip against the Formica kitchen counter. Even in the low light of the kitchen, Daryl could see the hollowed out cheeks and dark smudges beneath the man's eyes, the limpness to his hair and shake to his hands that he tried his best to control by crossing his arms over his narrow chest. The end was creeping up on Micah Carter, there was no doubt about it.

“Bout as well as you can think she'd handle it. Blames herself.” Daryl stuck the glass under the tap once more and filled the glass to the brim, chugging the contents quickly and to the point that his stomach sloshed with the sudden excessive amount of liquid.  
“She wants to get the kids out within the week. Ain't sure how we're gonna go about it, but if it can be done, we're out of here.”

“And you're worried she's not going to go with you? Not willingly anyway?” Micah asked, knowing exactly what was bothering Daryl.

“She ain't gonna go without you,” Daryl sat the now empty glass on the counter and slid his crossbow off his shoulder to rest against the cabinets. “And I ain't got a damned clue how to get her to go, unless I knock her over the head and drag her out.”

“I can't go with you, Daryl. Shit, we both know I'm not making it out of here alive.” Micah's eyes reflected the sadness in his words, dark and weary, yet accepting of the fate that he had been handed. “I'll talk to her. I'll make her understand. But, if the day comes and she refuses, then do what you have to in order to make sure she's safe. Promise me that.”

“You got my word,” Daryl promised, knowing full well that there was no way he would be able to leave this place without Mia, whether she wanted to go or not. Because, at the end of the day, he cared deeply for Mia Carter, whether he wanted to admit those feelings or not, and leaving her behind was not an option.  



	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the 2nd chapter posted today (Monday, Aug. 21)!

_“Deep inside your eyes it shows,_  
You’ve been lost for too long.  
Out of touch.  
On the edge.  
I promise you will find a way.  
I found a pathway home,  
I’ll carry you.  
You’re not alone.” 

In This Moment "Violet Skies" 

By the time Mia finished talking to the kids and stepped out onto the front porch, night had long since fallen. Exhaustion weighed heavily on her shoulders as she glanced around the seemingly empty front yard in search of Daryl, her sleepy eyes landing on him at the edge of the property, tucked away beneath the shadows formed between the homes. While she knew that the guard patrols had been increased, she was either too tired to locate any of them lurking about or the ones assigned to that particular area were far better at blending in to their surroundings than she originally pegged them to be.

Mia scrubbed the palms of her hands over her face and tried her best to suppressing yawn, but failed miserably and did so loudly as she crossed the yard to intercept Daryl. Yawning again, this time so intensely that tears sprung up in her eyes, she mumbled a half-assed apology to Daryl before starting down the road in the direction of home.

“You been in there a while, don't blame you for being tired,” Daryl said in return, brushing off her apology. After a cautious glance over his shoulder to make sure no one was lurking behind them, he asked, “Find out anything?”

“Nothing that's going to help me find Emily,” Mia sighed in response, earning herself another yawn before she could continue. “Keisha finally admitted that Emily's been sneaking out in the middle of the night for a while now. Of course, I'd already figured that part out, what with being knocked up and all. They share a room and she said Emily did as she normally does and slipped out the side door. Last night was slightly different, as she said she saw someone waiting for Emily, but all she could see was a shadow for the most part. Nothing concrete, that's for damned sure. I mean, how far am I going to get knowing the guy may or may not have been white?”

“She couldn't tell by looking?”

“Full moon, remember? Made things seem brighter than they actually are, I guess.” Mia shrugged her shoulder in response and stepped through the gate to the house when Daryl opened it for her. “Keisha said he held out his hand towards Emily when she got close to him and he looked pale, maybe white or maybe the lighting was making it look that way. Who knows? Either way, doesn't help me any.”

“So, what do we do from here?” Daryl inquired once they got to the dimly lit front porch. His hand rested on the doorknob, but he had yet to enter the house, which Mia appreciated, because she didn't want to risk waking Micah up.

Damn near dead on her feet after a less than stellar night of sleep, hours upon hours of hiking in the woods, followed by a frustratingly long evening of questioning a bunch of nervous kids meant that Mia was beyond ready for bed. In fact, she was half certain that her brain was no longer able to function past the required motions that were necessary to carry her exhausted ass up the stairs and in to the bed. So, instead of hanging around with Daryl to rehash their half-cocked plans for escape or trying to figure out the mystery of Emily, Mia simply said, “Right now? I don't know about you, but I'm beat. I vote we hit the pause button and sleep. Sound good to you?”

Even though the question was technically rhetorical, since Mia was going to go to bed regardless of what Daryl's answer was, she was pleased when he answered with a nod of the head and a mumbled acceptance to her plan. Yawning yet again, she started towards the stairs, but not before giving in to her body's need to reach out and touch Daryl, even if it was just the briefest of contacts. Brushing her fingertips over his bare forearm, she glanced up at him with sleepy eyes and said, “Sleep tight, Daryl.”

She could see the concern for her in his eyes and while she desperately wanted to know if he regretted what happened between them the night before on the back porch, Mia also wasn't ready to hear the answer to that question. Especially since she was beginning to think that the lack of back story to Daryl Dixon had little to do with his quiet nature and more to do with the fact that he had a whole other life waiting for him wherever it was he came from. A wife? A girlfriend? Kids? Hell, Mia didn't know, but the drawing she had found in his backpack when he had first stumbled upon their town, combined with the look of utter shock and a little bit of fright when she had inquired about such earlier that day, and Mia was beyond certain that someone was waiting for him to come home one day.

Which further explained the look of panic in his eyes after he had fucked her against the kitchen door, before literally tucking and running away from her. Egads, the humiliation she had suffered after getting the literal silent treatment and subsequent brush off after finally giving in to her hormones and becoming physical with another man after all these years alone. But, there was little she could do about that now, being that there was no rewind button on life, so instead of spending another night mentally rehashing the disaster, Mia climbed the stairs towards her bedroom.

Pausing long enough to check in on Micah, she pushed open his bedroom door slowly, in hopes that she wouldn't wake him up. It had been a while since she had slept in the room with him, at his request, since Micah was terrified that he would hurt her again, thanks to the nightmares he had during his slumber, combined with the out of control pain that seared through his mind and made him lash out at times. While she was just across the landing, being that far away from her brother when he might need her worried Mia, and she was often up and down throughout the evening just so she could peek in and check on him.

Of course, it was a crap shoot as to if he was lying awake in his bed or if she would wake him up and tonight was no different. The door was barely opened enough to allow Mia to poke her head in and glance at his bed, but Micah noticed the movement and called out to her softly to let her know he was awake. “It's late,” Mia pointed out as she pushed the door open enough to slip into the bedroom. “You should be sleeping.”

“That's a bit like the pot calling the kettle black, isn't it?” Micah replied drolly as he scooted over towards the wall to allow her to sink down onto the bed next to him. “Where’ve you been?”

“Talking to the girl's, trying to see if they could tell me something that might help me find Emily.” Mia sank down on the mattress until her head was on the pillow and she was stretched out beside her brother. Turning her head towards him, she added, “It was a long shot, but I had to try.”

While she was doing her best to keep the escape plan from her brother, it would have been too difficult to try to keep Emily's disappearance under wraps, so she hadn't bothered to even try to do so. Micah picked up her hand and threaded his long fingers through hers, the sickness making his feel far bonier than they had felt even a few weeks earlier, and Mia took a deep breath to stifle the sob that threatened to escape at the thought that she might be losing her brother soon, too.

“I heard she was pregnant,” Micah murmured, his voice thick and scratchy from his own bout of insomnia. “You think maybe that has something to do with her going missing?”

“About four months along, I think. And yeah, sadly, I think it does,” Mia whispered in return, hating to even vocalize the obvious. “I just don't know where to go to find the answer to the Who part of the question. Someone hurt that poor girl and I don't know how to get justice for that. For her.”

“Just keep the others safe. Keep yourself safe,” Micah said after a pause, as though he was mulling over exactly what it was he wanted to say. “Promise me, Mia. You'll make sure you're safe.”

“Of course I will,” Mia replied, trying her best to not choke on the emotions coursing through her. She had never been one to lie, especially not to her brother, but at that moment the only thing she could do was lie. Because, when it came down to choosing between her safety and the safety of the children, well...she wasn't going to choose herself. But, she couldn't let her brother know that. If he ever found out about the deal she'd made with Daryl, he would never let her sacrifice her own life to stay behind with him when the others made their way towards the safe haven that Daryl was promising.

Nope, the best thing for Mia to do was continue with the charade with her brother, while scheming with Daryl to get the others out of the compound. Therefore, she dropped the conversation altogether and angled her head so that she could kiss her brother's cheek before rolling out of bed. “Get some rest. I'm going to do the same, after a shower.”

“Good, I didn't want to mention it, but you stink.” There was a lighthearted lilt to Micah's voice as he teased Mia, but it was gone far too soon for Mia to enjoy it. Seriousness slipped back into words when he spoke again, “I love you, Mia. Always remember that, okay? I love you more than life itself and want you to be safe and happy.”

“I love you, too. Always and forever,” Mia replied, her voice catching on her words as she choked back the emotions that flooded her at his words. Slipping through the door, Mia blew a kiss to Micah and bid him goodnight before closing the door. “Sleep tight, big brother. Don't let the bed bugs bite.”

Of course, as life had often taught her, bed bugs weren't the only things that could ruin your sleep. No, there were far worse things roaming around in the cover of darkness that could creep in and destroy your slumber and wreak havoc on your sleep. And that destroyer of slumber came in the form of a gunshot, it's sharp crack sounding off like a canon during the wee hours of the morning, jerking Mia out of a dead sleep like her ass was on fire.

Standing in the middle of her brother's bedroom, it was then that she realized that no amount of blood and gore could prepare a person for the next time Death slipped in and stole the life of a loved one. Her body shook uncontrollably, her limbs quaking like a leaf in a storm and hot, salty tears streamed down her sleep creased face as she stared in disbelief at her brother sprawled across the bed she had left only hours before, his beautiful face an odd mask of content, while the back of his head was splattered across the slatted headboard and once creamy paint on the wall behind the bed. As her legs finally gave out and Mia sank to the floor, a scream of anguish tore from her lips that would forever torment anyone that heard it. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed the updates today. Let me know what you think of the twist with Micah!


	43. Chapter 43

_“With the venomous kiss you gave me,_  
I’m killing loneliness.  
With the warmth of your arms you saved me.  
Oh, I’m killing loneliness with you.  
I’m killing loneliness that turned my heart into a tomb.” 

__

_HIM “Killing Loneliness”_

The days passed by agonizingly slow, shrouded in sweltering heat and searing sunlight, barely a cloud in the sky or a breeze on the air. It was unbearable simply due to Micah's death and Emily's disappearance, but add in the stifling temperatures and the heartache that flowed from Mia in waves and the atmosphere around town and well, Daryl wasn't sure there was a word to adequately describe the misery.

Sweat trickled down Daryl's back as he sat on the couch that had become more than a temporary sleeping arrangement. The morning had teetered on unbearable in temperature, but as the day crept forward, mid-afternoon was competing with Hell to see who could be hotter. He was tired of sitting inside the house, stewing in his own sweat, while Mia holed up in her bedroom, alternating between sobbing and staring blankly at the wall. Yet, while he was sick of doing absolutely nothing, sitting around watching Mia waste away was the more difficult task. It had been close to two weeks since he had been yanked out of bed by her agonizingly heartbreaking cries upon finding her twin brother with a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head, and Mia was still barely existing as the agony ate her alive from the inside out. At this point, Daryl was considering doing something to royally piss her off, just so he could see the fire in her soul, instead of the pain in her heart. Anything to see just a spark of the light inside of Mia that drew him to her like a moth to a flame.

Instead, he was sitting in the living room, alone with the weight of the world on his shoulders. His hands trembled as he held on to one of the two envelopes that had been awaiting him the night after Micah's suicide, having found them wrapped in a plastic baggie and crammed inside the dead man's pillow, as though he had known that Daryl would be the one to find them and not Mia. One envelope was addressed to himself, apologizing for the path that Micah had chosen in order to save his sister, and one addressed to Mia, simply marked to give it to her when the time was right. As if Daryl knew when it would be the right time to give Mia the last bit of communication from her brother? It was a burden that Daryl didn't want, especially since he was fairly certain that in the letter Micah had likely confessed his knowledge of the plan to save the kids and escape to Daryl's sanctuary, as well as Daryl's part in the secrecy of keeping Mia in the dark about Micah knowing about the scheme.

It was enough to make his head hurt and his stomach churn. Guilt pressed down on his shoulders, as he wondered yet again if things would have gone differently had Mia known that her brother was clued in to what was going on behind the scenes around town. On one hand, Micah was responsible for his own actions, but on the other, Daryl hated to see Mia in pain and shouldered the burden of guilt over Micah's death. Cursing, Daryl folded up Mia's letter as he pushed up off the couch and shoved it into his back pocket, where it had lived since he had found it. He needed fresh air and even though it would be hot, humid air outside, it had to be better than the stifling, stuffed up air inside the gloomy as fuck house.

On the front porch, he placed his hands on the railing and leaned into it, feeling the late afternoon sun bearing down onto his face as it slowly made its way below the horizon. The air was thick, as the humidity did its best to make it seem as though he was breathing water instead of air, but it was a whole hell of a lot better than being inside the house. Standing up straight, Daryl swiped a hand through his sweat soaked hair and glanced up towards the roadway in time to see Gage walking towards him. Inwardly groaning, because while they had nearly ruled the man out as a suspect in the plan to trade the kids to the highest bidder, Daryl still wasn't certain he liked the man. Most likely it was due to the fact that Gage sported a serious hard on when it came to Mia, and, of course, so did Daryl. However, only the devil on Daryl's shoulder acknowledged that fact, but he was quickly shoved aside so that Daryl didn't have to face it just yet.

“Daryl,” Gage called out as he pushed open the gate at the end of the walkway, “How goes it? Hot enough for you?”

Ugh, mundane small talk. Something that Daryl had never mastered or had any use for. But, if he wanted to survive another day, sometimes he had to do things he didn't quite enjoy. “It goes,” Daryl managed to force out, hating being subjected to discussing the damned weather with Gage. Hell, he barely could tolerate topics with the man that weren't as ridiculous as bullshit small talk, but he sucked it up and ground his teeth together, before adding, “Could stand for it to be knocked down a degree.”

“Looks like a storm might be brewing,” Gage pointed out, motioning towards the trees at the end of the road, where sure enough a thick patch of dark clouds looked to be forming. “Hopefully it'll be more than a sprinkle of piss and cool it off some.” Gage paused just before the steps to the front porch and settled at-ease. “Anyway, came to check on Mia. She doing any better? Think she'd want some company?”

Shaking his head, Daryl said, “Ain't seen her since last night. Blake checked on her around lunch, said she's not doing any better.” Daryl was thankful for Blake's presence around the house, especially since Micah's passing, because the young man was more than happy to fulfill the duties of caretaker for his friend, instead of letting that responsibility fall on Daryl. Hunting? Sure, that he could do. Physically keeping her safe? Not a problem. But, caring for her emotional well-being? Helping her heal a broken heart? Coaxing her to eat something or take a damned drink of water? Yeah, no. That was out of his wheelhouse of skills. All anyone had to do was rewind the story and see how well he had done with Lily in that aspect to see that all he amounted to was a failure, so it was best he left those tasks in the hands of someone who was more capable.

Gage sighed heavily and cast a look of sympathy towards the closed window to Mia's room that was just above their heads. “Shit,” he cursed softly, before glancing back to Daryl. “I knew this would break her. Those two had never spent a night apart before she got married, and even then Micah ended up moving in with her and Brian.”

“Maybe she ain't broke,” Daryl butted in, defending Mia, even though he was pretty sure Gage was correct in his assumption. “Maybe she's just got to figure it out. Give it time.” Hell, Daryl knew how it felt to lose a brother. Even though Merle was older than him and they'd had more than their fair share of disagreements over the years, his death had shattered something inside of Daryl that had never fully healed. Knowing how upset he had been afterwards, Daryl couldn't really blame Mia for falling apart after her twin died. She had referred to Micah as the other half of her heart, and how the hell could anyone expect her to live with only half a heart?

“I hope you're right. The girls really miss her.” Gage paused and scrubbed a palm over his beard as a look of uncertainty passed over his face, before adding, “I miss her.”

“She comes out of that room, I'll make sure to tell her that,” Daryl promised, feeling something close to camaraderie with Gage at that moment, because in all honesty, he missed Mia, too.

“Okay, well, I guess I'll be going,” Gage nodded his head towards Daryl in farewell and turned to leave. Glancing back over his shoulder, he added, “Thank you, for...you know, being there for her.”

“Just doing as I was told,” Daryl pointed out, although he was lying through his teeth. He was there because he wanted to be. There weren't too many people that could force Daryl Dixon to do a damned thing he did not want to do, and none of those people were located in the town he was. And, one look into Gage's whiskey brown gaze and Daryl realized that both of them knew he was lying.

Later that night, laying on the couch that he had occupied far too much as of late, Daryl stared off into the darkness as the much needed rain beat down onto the ground just outside of the open windows. The storm had done little to alleviate the humidity in the air, but it hadn't been raging outside for long, but it was growing in intensity and if it kept it up all night, there was hope that the heat and humidity would break soon. He prayed that summer would fade away into autumn by the time they set out for the lodge, as making that trek in the heat was a special type of torture that he didn't wish to repeat, especially since he wouldn't be alone. Making that trip with nine kids, Blake and Mia, and Mae was not going to be pleasant, much less with temperature soaring over a hundred degrees and soupy humidity. Nope, if they were lucky, fall would barge in soon enough and at least alleviate one area of stress during their expedition. As Daryl's eyes drooped, he wondered how long it was going to be before he got to go home and, as he slept, the faces of his family filled his dreams.

Thunder clapped loudly outside, causing Daryl to jerk awake as the room filled with bright lightening and illuminated the living area long enough to silhouette the figure standing in the foyer archway. Surprise filled him when he recognized the shape of the woman that was crossing the room towards him silently, but when she paused next to the couch and stared down at him without saying a word, he grew worried.

“Mia? What's wrong?” He asked, his brow furrowing with concern when she didn't answer. Daryl started to sit up, but her hand reached out to touch his chest. Her fingertips ghosted over the material of his tank, before she pressed her palm against his breastbone and pushed him back down onto the couch. “Mia?” Daryl asked once more, his voice full of grit, but resonating the uncertainty that coursed through his veins.

“Shh,” Mia whispered, before she slowly eased onto the couch with him, one slender thigh pressed into both sides of his body. Her hair tickled his bare arms when she leaned forward, close enough that her breasts pressed into his chest and her lips feathered across his. “No talking.”

He reached out for her, wrapping his hands around her biceps as he tried to still her roaming hands, but damned if other parts of his body were on board with stopping Mia from going forward with whatever she had planned. But, he pushed aside his sudden case of rampant hormones and tried to be a better man than what his raging damned hard on was begging him to be. “Mia, come on-”

Her lips pressed against his tightly, effectively cutting off his protests as she nipped on his bottom lip and delved her tongue into his mouth to caress his own. His hands loosened on her arms as she leaned up and stared down at him, and finally fell away from her altogether when she lifted up her arms to pull off the over-sized shirt she sometimes slept in, fully revealing to him the complete lack of clothing beneath it.

As the t-shirt fell to the floor and her hot little hands slipped beneath his own clothes, his cock straining against her touch and shamelessly begging for more, Daryl never registered the words Mia murmured against his ear as she laid claim to his body.

“Just make me feel,” Mia whispered, her words but a breath against the curve of Daryl's neck as she licked and kissed the heated skin. “It'll be our secret. When we get there, I won't tell her. I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the reviews on the last chapter. I love hearing from you guys! 
> 
> I won't be posting next Sunday, as I will be at Dragon Con and won't be taking my laptop. Should I have time to write the next chapter before I leave, I will post it then, but I can't make any promises because I have work and a ton of things to do before Thursday morning. Some silly lady decided that 7 costumes for 4 days was a good idea and so I have a lot of things to finalize before I go. For anyone who would like to know more about Nerdapalooza (aka Dragon Con) here is the link: http://dragoncon.org/


	44. Chapter 44

_“Bring me to bed, but don’t sleep,  
I wanna feel the sweat on your skin.  
Gimme the pressure you know I need,  
And if I’m tied up, you take the lead.”_

__

New Year’s Day “Scream” 

With each step she had taken in her path to where Daryl slept downstairs, doubt had crept along with her. Would he push her away? Did he ache for her as much as she did for him? Would his touch dampen the pain in her heart? Would giving herself to him ease the soul crushing depression that had plagued her since Micah's death? All of these questions swirled around in her head with each step her feet took from her bedroom, down the stairs, and through the living room to where Daryl was asleep.

Uncertainty gnawed at her as she straddled his body. Her heart thumped loudly against her breastbone and her hands shook as her nerves ratcheted up a notch or twelve as she waited for him to shove her into the floor and reject her, especially when she had initially been met with his gently spoken words of resistance as he circled his hands around her biceps and attempted to hold her back. It was at that moment, for a fleeting second that Mia had thought about the woman waiting for him, the one he hadn't denied when she had asked about when they were searching for the still missing Emily. But, it was the feel of him beneath her, the hardness of his body, the calloused skin of his hands on her arms, the rigidity of his obvious arousal the pressed against her center, that pushed away the doubts in her mind, the worry in her heart, and surged her forward in her quest to feel something other than the aching pain in her heart.

Sinking down onto his cock, pleasure coursed through her body with such force that she couldn't contain the sound that escaped her mouth. Luckily, the boom of the storm that was violently raging outside, the sharp clap of thunder, dampened the moans of desire that escaped from her mouth and hid the sounds from Blake, who was asleep upstairs. She had yet to divulge to Blake what had happened between her and Daryl on the back porch so many weeks ago and wasn't quite sure she wanted him to know. It wasn't that she was embarrassed exactly, but more so that she didn't want to experience his pity when they returned to Daryl's home and she was pushed to the side when he was reunited with whomever he had waiting for him there. But, when Daryl grasped her hips tightly and surged upwards, filling her to completion, the sound that slipped from between her lips was anything but contained and, at that moment, she honestly couldn't find the power to care if Blake heard her.

Leaning forward, her nipples brushed against the ribbed material of Daryl's ever-present tank top and the feel of the soft material was both tantalizing and aggravating. She had yet to see him without his clothes on and while the ribbed cotton felt amazing against her sensitive nipples, Mia wanted to know what his naked skin felt like against her own heated flesh. For half a second, she gave thought to the possibility of simply ripping the worn tank from his body, but managed to hold back her inner cave woman in favor of slipping her hands beneath the cotton to caress the skin of his abdomen instead, as she slowly started working the offending garment up his body.

What she wasn't prepared for was his resistance and announced her displeasure at such with a very unladylike grunt against his mouth when Daryl's hands covered hers and held them still at his sides. Pulling her mouth away from his lips, she broke her no talking rule and breathed out her objection, “I want to feel you against me.”

She could feel his opposition to her demands and used every ounce of her feminine wiles to get what she wanted by sensuously moving her hips in such a way that she raised up from his cock and slowly slid back down until he was fully seated inside of her body. Brushing her lips against his, she repeated the movement once more and felt his resistance crumble beneath her when she whispered, “Please.”

He sat up suddenly, their bodies still connected intimately, and the change in position put pressure on the spot where she craved it the most and a simple circle of her hips against his body elicited a moan from her lips that had to let him know just how much she appreciated the change of position. Focusing on the task at hand, Mia grasped the hem of his tank top and roughly pulled it from his body, over his head and tossed to the floor. Without halting the motion of her hips, she let her hands explore the new terrain of his torso and relished the feel of the light smattering of hair on his chest when she circled her hands around his shoulders and pressed her body against his.

The bite of the zipper from his pants against her inner thigh reminded Mia that she had yet to get him fully undressed, but the slight pain that was caused by the circling of her hips against him wasn't exactly a turn off. She did, however, make a mental note to strip him completely before they fucked again, if that actually happened, of course. As she moved against him, all but losing herself in the pleasure streaking through her body, loving the feel of his cock buried deep inside of her and the bruising force of his hands on her hips urging her to move harder and faster, there was that nagging little voice in the back of her mind that reminded her that things between them would change whenever they made it back to his home, his family.

Thankfully, before her mind could travel down that road of thought, Daryl deftly changed their position once more and she was on her back with him thrusting into her at a breathtaking pace. How he had accomplished such a maneuver, she had no clue, as his movements should have been restricted with her sitting on top of him, the narrow space of the couch, and his jeans pushed halfway down his thighs, but somehow he had managed to do just that. Hitching up her legs, she wrapped them around his narrow waist and held on tightly as his movements intensified, right along with the sensation that had been slowly building between her thighs. Mia angled her hips ever so slightly so that Daryl's pubic bone pushed against her clit with each thrust, roughly coaxing out the orgasm that had been teasing Mia since she had first sank down onto his cock.

With her lips pressed against his in a rough kiss, Mia groaned out her release as silently as possible, but knew that without the storm raging outside, the sounds of her orgasm would have been known to anyone in or around the house. Digging her nails into his shoulders, she ground her center against him tightly to squeeze out every ounce of pleasure from her body, and just as she crested the highest point of her orgasm, Mia felt his body tense a moment before Daryl growled out his own release with his lips against the curve of her neck. As he tensed and jerked in her arms, Mia trembled in his arms and for the first time in ages, relaxed and simply enjoyed the moment of orgasmic elation.

Unfortunately, she was rousted from the foggy haze of pleasure far sooner than she would have liked, when Daryl slipped from her body and, judging from the sounds, started rearranging his clothing back into place. Frowning in the darkness, as though he could read the displeasure on her face, Mia hated the sudden feeling of self-consciousness that washed over her as she laid there completely nude, damn near spread eagle, as he dressed and moved away from her as quickly as possible. Just like the last time, she realized. As she sat up with the intentions of locating her sleep shirt to get dressed and escape to her bedroom in shame, she realized that despite his obvious discomfort, she wasn't quite ready to call it quits for the night and scooted closer to where Daryl was sitting quietly. Her bare breasts brushed against his arm when she leaned in closer to him, and the sharp intake of breath and shudder that he released let her know that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't quite ready to go to sleep either.

“Where you hurrying off to?” Mia asked softly, tilting her head close to his to whisper against the shell of his ear. And, with bravery that she had not possessed in the bedroom in ages, she said, “We've got all night.”

“I, uh, figured you wanted me to,” Daryl finally responded, taking a few beats too long to do so and showing his own case of nerves at the situation. And then, as if he truly did know what she wanted, added, “Didn't think you'd want to risk Blake coming down or something.”

“We could, you know, go up to my room, if you want?” Mia asked, cursing herself for feeling so damned shy, a feeling she had never possessed in regards to sex. Hell, before marrying Brian, she had owned her own sexuality proudly, and had continued to do so after marriage, just containing that fiery lust to one man in particular, instead of whomever she damn well pleased. Yet now, she was as nervous as a cat on a hot tin roof in regards to asking a man who was obviously sexually attracted to her back to her bedroom. My, how the mighty had fallen.

When met with Daryl's silence at her offer, Mia blushed from head to toe and thought she might just die from embarrassment right then and there. Leaning over, she searched the floor between the couch and the coffee table for her sleep shirt, all the while blabbering like an idiot, “It's okay if you don't want to. I just thought that maybe, you know, you'd...I dunno, want to.”

Daryl pushed up from the couch during the middle of her blathering and Mia trailed off, silently pulling on the sleep shirt she finally located laying on the coffee table, but he didn't go anywhere, simply standing in the darkness beside her, silently. Then, after she stood up and turned to go, he softly muttered her name a split second before she felt him take hold of her hand, before leading the way towards her bedroom.

Hours later, when the rising sun finally made it high enough into the sky to crest a neighboring house and burst into her bedroom like the unwanted guest that it was, Mia growled at being woken up by Daryl moving around and buried her head in the pillow. They had been in bed most of the night, Mia having finally been granted her wish to have Daryl fully naked and at her mercy, but had only managed a couple hours of sleep at the most. Bleary eyed and cranky, Mia peeked out from beneath her pillow, cracked one eyelid at Daryl and grumbled, “Why are you getting up so early?”

“It ain't that early,” he muttered roughly back in response, although the ferocity of his words was only due to the normal grit and gravel that his voice held, especially in the morning. “People's done up outside. Blake's done downstairs.”

“Oh,” Mia replied, barely managing to form words thanks to sheer exhaustion. Of course, she wasn't complaining, because at least this time her exhaustion was due to being thoroughly fucked in a good way. Stretching languidly, she kicked off the sheet that was twisted around her legs and laid there in all of her unabashed naked glory. The heat that emanated from Daryl's normal glacial stare was enough to get her motor cranked, but as she was a half second away from suggesting round three- or five, who could keep count- she was met with a crumpled envelope that he thrust towards her instead of the dick she was intent on searching for.

“What's this?” Mia asked curiously, wrinkling her nose in confusion as she read the words scrawled across the front, which looked suspiciously like her brother's chicken scratch handwriting.

“I, uh, it's from Micah,” Daryl muttered, his heated gaze gone as his eyes searched for a place to stare at that wasn't her eyes. “Was supposed to give it to you, just wasn't sure when.”

“And now is a good time?” Mia asked with half a smile on her face, as she desperately tried to lighten a situation that seemed to grow heavier with each passing moment. When faced with Daryl's silence, she tugged the discarded sheet up over her torso self-conciously and furrowed her brow as she looked down at the envelope in her now shaky hands. Sticking a fingernail under one edge, she started to open it when Daryl started towards the door. “You don't have to leave.”

“Yeah, I do,” he replied without looking at her, his hand on the doorknob. He glanced over his shoulder, finally making eye contact with her and what she saw in those blue eyes scared the shit out of her. “You need to be alone when you read it.”

Her reply was stuck in her throat, emotions she wasn't prepared for suddenly choking her, so she simply nodded as he stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind him. Mia tore open the envelope with trembling hands and pulled out an equally crumpled letter from her deceased brother. As she read the words he had left behind for her, tears built up in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks to land on the paper in her trembling hands. When she realized the full impact of Micah's letter, a sob tore from her chest a split second before her sadness turned to anger and a scream ripped from her mouth.

Mia tore from the bed and dressed as quickly as possible. She needed to be out of the house and away from Daryl and his treachery, otherwise she couldn't be held liable for her actions. Shoving her feet into a pair of worn ass hiking boots, she grabbed a ponytail holder and scrapped her bedraggled hair back into a messy ponytail before grabbing the letter and marching down stairs.

Of course he was expecting her. She should have known that based on the way he had acted when giving her the letter. Daryl was more than aware of what the envelope had contained and had been downstairs bracing himself for her reaction after she read it. Blake, on the other hand, was caught between the two of them with nothing but curiosity etched on his face as he stood in archway to the kitchen, clutching his breakfast and frozen in place by the anger radiating from Mia as she brushed passed him.

“You told him?” Mia finally managed to choke out, her words shaky with the rage that coursed through her body. “You told him the plan after I asked you not to? Who in the hell do you think you are?”

“He knew, or at least he'd figured most of it out,” Daryl mumbled in response, obviously knowing that nothing he said would dampen Mia's anger at that moment. “He wanted to help, he wanted to make sure you were safe.”

“It's your fault,” Mia whispered. She struggled to catch her breath, to push back the sobs that threatened to escape, because she refused to cry in front of Daryl. When he stood up from the couch, the place they had had sex just the night before, and started towards her with nothing but concern on his face, Mia sidestepped him and held her hand out to ward him away from her. Shaking her head, she said, “No. Leave me alone. I- I can't even look at you right now.”

“Mia,” Daryl started, saying her name with so much emotion that the dam inside of her broke and spilled over. “Mia, I didn't mean for this to happen.”

“And yet, it did. He's dead and you're here, all because you couldn't keep your mouth shut.” In a fit of tears, Mia darted for the front door and jerked it open with such force that it bounced against the wall loudly as she tore from the house with no destination in mind.

She knew without looking back that Daryl hadn't followed her. He was smart, if nothing else, and self-preservation was strong in him, so she slowed her escape from an all-out run to a purposeful walk halfway down the street, even though she had no idea where she was escaping to. But, fate stepped in and made a decision for her when Heather stepped out of Gage's house and motioned to her.

“Hey, I was just about to come find you,” Heather said brightly, oblivious to the pain that Mia was currently in. “Gage needs to talk to you. Said he really needs your help with something.”

“Yeah, okay. Where's he at?” Mia agreed, shockingly happy for the distraction from her own problems. She shoved the letter in her back pocket and stepped through the gate at the end of the walkway and headed towards Gage's house.

“Down in the basement.” Heather held open the front door for her as she passed into the oddly quiet house, the usual sounds of Gage's booming voice and his myriad of security guards meandering around were absent. “I dunno what he's up to down there. Said he found something you'd want to see? Um, do you mind heading down by yourself? I was heading to breakfast, late as usual, and I'm starving.”

“No problem,” Mia replied absentmindedly, honestly not questioning why Heather would escort her anywhere, as she had never done so before. But, her mind was elsewhere that morning and she paid no attention to the young woman as she accepted the flickering lantern and turned to head down the stairs to the darkened basement.

Once in the basement, she stepped into the darkened pit and held out the lantern in front of her to hopefully use the golden glow to see her surroundings. Annoyed when she didn't see Gage, or anyone actually, Mia started to turn to go back upstairs, but the blinding pain of being hit in the head halted her progression. Instead, she dropped the lantern a half second before she collapsed onto the floor beside it.


	45. Chapter 45

**PART FOUR**

Chapter 45 

_“I know that you’ve been damaged,_  
Your soul has suffered such abuse.  
But I am not your savior,  
I am just as fucked as you.  
I am just as fucked as you.  
I cannot save you,  
I can’t even save myself.  
So just save yourself.” 

__

Stabbing Westward “Save Yourself”

Frustrated and worried, Daryl paced the length of the front porch for the four hundred and twelfth time since Mia had stormed away from him with explicit orders not to follow her. And, for the four hundred and twelfth time, he cursed himself for not disobeying her and doing so anyway, because mid-afternoon had come and gone without any sight of her. Thus far, he had non-nonchalantly searched every place he could think she might have taken refuge, without luck. Mia wasn't at the house at the end of the road where the kids lived, she wasn't at Mae's house hiding out, nor was she seeking refuge in any of the gardens between those two locations. And, after sprinting through the woods fast enough to cause him to feel as though his lungs were going to burst from exertion, he had determined that she hadn't slipped out and went swimming.

Now, sunset was sneaking up, ready to overtake the day once more, and he was quickly running out of options. In fact, at this point in the day and his failed search, there was only one place that he had not resorted to checking and damned if he didn't want to go to that specific house. Mostly because if Gage was half the menacing beast he acted like he was, the man was going to slit Daryl's throat for losing Mia and hang his lifeless body in the middle of the town as a reminder to the rest of the people in his care to not disappoint him.

Gulping nervously, Daryl paused his pacing long enough to stare down the street to where Gage's house sat, the windows darkened ominously as the sun started to set behind it. Lost in the thought of what lay before him if he went to Gage to see if Mia was with him, Daryl missed the sound of the door knob turning behind him and startled in surprise when the door swung open to hit him in the back. Turning his head to glance over his shoulder, Daryl found Blake standing in the doorway with an apologetic look on his face. The ginger haired young man had been gone most of the day, tearing out of the house shortly after Mia had done the same, and had only returned an hour or so before, without his best friend in tow, much to Daryl's disappointment.

“I take it she hasn't come home?” Blake asked, finally stepping out of the house to stand next to Daryl on the porch. He glanced up and down the porch with a curious eye and added, “I guess not, otherwise you wouldn't still be trying to wear a hole in the porch.”

Glowering at the kid, Daryl refused to comment on his smart-assed comment, and simply asked, “She got any other hiding places I don't know about?”

Blake shook his head and took two steps over to the railing to lean against it, arms crossed over his chest, and studied Daryl in a way that made Daryl slightly self-conscious. “Any reason I should tell you if you she did?”

He figured it wouldn't be long before Mia's best buddy tore into him after the scene Blake had witnessed that morning. Daryl wondered just how much the young man knew about what had transpired between him and Mia, because from what little information he actually had on girls and their friends, he knew enough to understand that there was very little in the way of secrets that they kept from one another. Erring on the side of caution, opting to focus on the fight Blake had seen, instead of the other moments he and Mia had shared prior to, Daryl said, “In another situation that don't involve her getting her ass killed? No. Way things are now? Shit that's going on here? Yeah, you should.”

“Fair enough,” Blake replied after a moment's hesitation, and for a brief second, Daryl thought he was going to shed some bright light on Mia's hiding spot. Instead, what little hope Daryl had built up in his chest at the notion there was a rock he had yet to flip over to look under, Blake shook his head and said, “Other than the lake? I've checked everywhere else she would have went to hide out from you. Got the same results you got when you checked apparently. Only place I didn't look was, well, you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” Daryl replied, following Blake's line of sight to where a candle just flickered to life in Gage's first floor living room window. Obviously someone had just returned home from where it was the man wandered off to during the day. “Guess now's as good as time as ever.”

“He's going to be pissed,” Blake said, effectively stopping Daryl from stepping off the porch by stating the painfully obvious. When Daryl stared back at him with a sarcastic remark on the tip of his tongue, Blake continued, “I'm just saying that maybe I should go over there? Pretend I don't know where the two of you are and ask if he's seen you. That way if she's not there he won't know that you've screwed the pooch on his whole keeping Mia safe and with you at all times thing.”

The kid made an excellent point, but what Daryl didn't get was why he was offering to risk his own neck for a man who had barely acknowledged him for the past few months. Of which, he asked, “Why do that? Gage hates you. Even if she's not there, he's gonna give you shit for even knocking on his damned door. Hell, maybe worse, just to fuck with you.”

“Hate is too strong of a word, really. More like, he thinks of me the way someone would regard road kill.” At Daryl's obvious confusion, Blake explained, “You know, it's gross and unsightly. Offending, because that particular creature was too stupid or weak to get out of the way of a vehicle and not get squashed? I'm nothing to him but an unpleasant sight.”

“Yeah, okay, so? Question's still the same.”

“I'm beneath him. He's a bully, Daryl. Gage won't hurt me, not physically. He'll just berate me and try to make me feel like shit, and really, that's nothing new to me. Bullies have been doing it since kindergarten.” Blake blushed with embarrassment and darted his eyes to the side, before saying, “Plus, you mean a lot to Mia. She wouldn't want to see you hurt, no matter how pissed she is at you. And, Gage finds out you lost her? He's going to hurt you.”

There was a moment when Daryl actually considered taking Blake up on his offer, but in the long run, Mia's absence was his fault. He was an asshole, but not so much so that he would send in a kid half his age, who by his own definition was a weakling, to repair his own damn mistakes. So, instead of hiding out in the relative safety of the house, he stepped off the last step onto the walkway and declined the offer. “Thanks, but anything happens to you and I ain't gonna have to worry about Gage, because Mia will kill me. You mean more to her than I do.”

“Maybe she loves us both in different ways,” Blake mused, pushing off the railing to stand in front of the steps as Daryl turned to head down the walkway. “Good luck!”

Daryl didn't turn around or even comment on the well wishes Blake called out to him as the walkway gate slammed shut behind him. As he strode down the street towards Gage's home, the random scattering of solar lights strung up and down the main street started glowing softly as darkness finally started to swallow the light.

With a hand that shook far more than he was comfortable with, Daryl knocked on the door and waited as patiently as possible for someone to open it. He hadn't expected the pompous ass to answer it himself, of course, but then again, Daryl hadn't expected to be greeted by Heather either. From what he had experienced on the previous trips to Gage's home, the door was typically answered by one of his security team, most often than not it had been Jimmy, Gage's second in command.  
“Well, hey there, Daryl,” Heather greeted him brightly, with the same amount of enthusiasm as always, but beneath the shiny demeanor the greeting felt off to Daryl for some reason. He tried to put a finger on what was different, but the slender brunette stepped further out through the threshold and eased the door slightly closed behind her. Flirtatious as ever, she leaned in towards him and traced a finger up his arm and asked, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I, uh, was wondering if you'd seen Mia around?” Daryl finally choked out. While he preferred asking the question to Heather instead of Gage, he knew that eventually his question would make it back to Gage and he would have to deal with that fallout.

“Yeah,” Heather replied, drawing out the word while glancing over her shoulder towards the semi-opened doorway. “She's here...with Gage.”

An odd mixture of relief and anxiety washed over him at that moment. Relief, because he had tracked down Mia, which meant she hadn't went swimming and ended up captured by God knows who. But, on the flip side, gut gnawing anxiety, because he wasn't exactly sure that being with Gage was a better option. Sure, the man had seemed genuinely concerned for her well-being all the times he had come by to check on her over the past few weeks, but there was still something that didn't sit well with Daryl in regards to Gage's feelings towards Mia.

“Can you get her for me?” Daryl asked with as much nonchalance as he could muster up, as to not let Heather know how worried he was about Mia's disappearing. While he didn't find the woman threatening, he still didn't trust her since she was one of the three concubines that lived and breathed for Gage Winston.

“Um, sorry, not at the moment, hun,” Heather said apologetically. “She's, uh...indisposed right now...with Gage.”

“What do you mean?” Daryl asked a bit more forcefully than he had intended, but the way Heather had half-assed explained what Mia was doing with Gage set him on edge instantly.

“You know, they're indisposed?” Heather tried again, putting emphasis on the last word before adding with a slightly sour tone to her voice, “I never thought I'd see the day she finally gave in to him, but...well, guess I did.”

“You're telling me they're in there? Fucking?” Daryl growled angrily, as a possessiveness for Mia that he hadn't fully acknowledged to himself flared up and boiled over in a jealous rage. Had that horrible little green monster not showed its ugly head at that moment, he would have thought about what Heather said with a bit more clarity than he had and realized what a load of utter shit the brunette was handing him.

“Yeah, that's what the fuck she just told you,” Jimmy replied as he pulled open the front door and stepped out far enough to wrap a meaty hand around Heather's slender bicep and jerking her back into the house. Taking her place on the stoop, he glowered at Daryl before taking those same meaty paws and shoving Daryl in the chest with them, pushing him off the porch with such force that he nearly fell over. “Now fuck off, asshole. Gage will deal with your ass later.”

Daryl's last sight before the door slammed shut was the wide, horror filled eyes of Heather a split second before Jimmy dragged her away from the front door. Anxiousness filled Daryl's gut, churning inside of him with sickening force, as he stood on the walkway and simply stared at Gage's house. It didn't take a genius to figure out that something strange was going on inside that house. Despite the fight they'd had that morning, he knew that Mia wouldn't be in that house with Gage in the way that Heather had described. Well, he knew it now that his anger and jealousy had been pushed aside by anxiety and fear, but Daryl knew it now nonetheless.

Mia was in trouble and he had no idea what he needed to do to save her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, if I go one way with the story it will be over in about 10 chapters. However, if I go the other way my muse is begging me to go, it will be longer than that and maybe a whole other part. What do you guys think? Longer or shorter?


	46. Chapter 46

_“Close your eyes_  
Drive away the light cloud that hides the light  
And leave the pain behind  
Dead Alive  
Find a way to bury all the lies  
Escape the pain inside  
‘Cause I don’t want to fall or let you go.” 

__

_Breaking Benjamin “Hollow”_

A wave of nausea washed over Mia as she woke, slowly coming to with a heavy dose of pain and confusion. Cracking one eye, she peered around the dimly lit room and tried to piece together not only where she was, but how the hell she had gotten there. Drawing a blank, she lifted a shaky hand to where the majority of the pain was centralized and tenderly poked around the goose egg on the back of her head. A sharp sting of searing pain caused her to quickly remove her fingers from the lump and realized after touching her fingertips together that they were slick with sticky blood from the wound, as was a large section of her hair, judging by another experimental touch test of the area around the gash that accompanied the knot.

She searched her memory and came up blank as to how she got the injury, but there was a vague recollection of being asked to go to Gage's house for some reason. However, her brain couldn't put a figurative finger on as to who had asked her to do so, or why she had been sought out in the first place. Glancing around the room, she thought that she might still be in Gage's basement, but since she rarely visited this section of his home, she couldn't say for sure.

Gingerly, she placed the palms of her hands down onto the cool cement floor and tried to push herself into a standing position. The movement caused another wave of nausea to rock her back onto the floor, dizzy and in pain. Whatever she had been hit with had obviously been done heavy handed, because the way her head was swimming in pain, she highly doubted she would be able to walk a straight line any time soon.

Mia sat back against the cinder block wall, extremely mindful of the bloody wound on the back of her head, and mentally took stock of the condition of the rest of her body. Each limb felt like they weighed a solid hundred pounds each and she was so parched that it felt like a bucket of cotton balls had been shoved into her mouth, but other than the injury on her head, everything else seemed to be in working order at least. Clothes intact, as well, so she was fairly certain that nothing else had been done to her while she was unconscious, for which, she said a silent prayer to a God that she wasn't certain was even there to listen.

Exhaustion tugged at her eye lids, no doubt a side effect from the concussion she had to be sporting, and Mia felt herself give in to the feeling and slowly slip into a much desired nap, when the door to the basement swung open and the sound of someone walking down the creaky wooden stairs caused her eyes to pop open wide with anxiousness and a touch of fear. Fully expecting it to be Gage, or maybe his second in command, Jimmy, Mia was surprised to find herself staring up at Heather instead.

“Oh, good, you're awake,” the slender brunette announced cheerfully as she descended the final stairs into the dimly lit basement. Heather sat her lantern down onto a nearby rolling tool chest, before lighting several candles that were scattered around the room to brighten it up, something Mia had mixed feelings about. She wasn't a big fan of total darkness, especially with a closed in space, but there was something about the way that Heather was prancing around the room lighting candles that had Mia worried about the light, as well.

“Heather? What happened?” Mia asked, her voice scratchy from her throat being so parched. Lifting her hand, she tenderly touched the wound on the back of her head and continued, “How'd I get hurt?”

“So sorry about that,” Heather said as she pulled a chair over closer to where Mia was sitting on the floor. “Jimmy obviously doesn't know his own strength. How's your head? Is it still bleeding? I swear it was gushing like a stuck pig this morning, but you know how head wounds are, right? Bleed like a stuck pig.”

“Wait, what? Jimmy hit me? Why?” Mia fumbled over her words, the pain in her head and dizziness of the concussion seemed to be making even talking a chore. Taking a deep breath, she tried to smother the nausea that was once again rearing its ugly head and asked, “Where's Gage?”

“He hit you, because I told him to do so,” Heather replied matter-of-factually and with little to no feeling, the warm demeanor that the woman often held was surprisingly absent as she stared down at Mia with cold, uncaring eyes. “And, Gage is around. Not far away, actually. You'll see him soon enough. But, first, you and I have to have a little one on one time. Girl talk, if you will.”

“Did he tell y'all to do this?” Mia asked, completely ignoring Heather's weird ass response about girl talk, and focusing on why her childhood best friend would ever truly want to hurt her. Had Gage finally snapped and taken a trip to the loony bin, resorting in hurting her and imprisoning her in his basement to keep as some sex slave? Anger bubbled just beneath the surface, but fear won out in the end and mixed with her nausea to have Mia leaning over to throw up nothing but bile onto the cement floor.  
Gagging, she sat back up and wiped her mouth with the back of her shaky hand and glanced back up at Heather, whose face was a mask of annoyance. “What the fuck is going on Heather?” she demanded, hating the sound of fear that trembled in her voice.

“I honestly thought you had figured it out already, or at least, most of it. From what I heard from Lucy, you and Daryl were certain you'd solved the puzzle, so you tell me what's going on, Mia.” Heather beamed down at Mia with a smiling smirk and seemed to be physically holding in a bout of laughter at the shock and confusion that had to be written all over Mia's face.

“You? You're in on it? I figured Jimmy would be working with Gage, but you, too? Why, Heather? How could you want to send those kids to be put through what you have to go through around here?” Rage coursed through Mia's veins as she placed the puzzle pieces in the correct spots and the desire to put her fist through Heather's smiling face was so strong that had she been strong enough physically to do so at that moment, she would have.

“Close, so very close, Mia.” Heather pushed out of her chair and grabbed the lantern before sauntering to the other side of the basement. Squatting down, she placed the lantern close to the shadowy figure laying on the ground and situated the golden glow so that Mia could see the person's face. When Mia gasped, a sound that couldn't be held in even if she had wanted to, Heather giggled like a drunken school girl and said, “Gage was never in on it, silly.”

“Is he- is he dead?” Mia asked with tears in her eyes, salty hot liquid sadness that spilled over her lashes with one blink and coursed down her cheeks.

“Not yet, probably will be soon though,” Heather answered with zero remorse as she stood up and headed back towards Mia. “Gut wounds bleed a lot like head wounds, but I'm pretty sure his injuries are worse than yours.”

“It was Jimmy the whole damn time, wasn't it?” Heat flushed Mia's cheeks angrily as she glared at Heather accusingly. “And you just went right along with it? Just drop ten kids off with God knows who and just let some sick fucking pervert have their way with them? Why in the hell would you put them through that?”

“Because it's either kill or be killed out there, Mia, and I am damned tired of being on the bottom of the food chain.” Heather reclaimed her seat, but only after scooting it so close to Mia that she had to crane her head back to glare up at the woman. What stared back at Mia was not the young woman that she had spent the better part of two years living around. What stared back at Mia was only what could be described as an evil narcissist, someone who easily slipped into the cloak of deception with enough talent to fool everyone she came in contact with when necessary.

“And, it wasn't Jimmy at the helm of this plan, dear. Every decision, every deceit and double cross was all mine. Jimmy, while attractive enough, and definitely strong, isn't smart enough to pull this off.” Heather, full of glee and pride for herself, crossed her legs and leaned back in her chair as nonchalantly as a woman having lunch with a friend. “You know, in the beginning, I thought that maybe you were someone I could recruit to help me. After you cut off what's his nut's hand, I just knew you were strong enough to be my right hand woman, but damn if that plan didn't fall to pieces once I realized you were working against me to get all of the kids out of the house. A shame, really, because I think we could have made a great team.”

“Fuck you and fuck your team,” Mia spat out, glaring at Heather as though she was little more than a cockroach skittering across the floor. “I never would have joined you. What you're doing is disgusting. You're a vile fucking bitch, I just hate I didn't realize it sooner.”

Mia was more than shocked when her words rolled off Heather's shoulders with a laugh. The shimmering evil glint in what used to be soft, pleasant eyes was yet another reminder that the woman she was dealing with the real Heather and made Mia yearn for the woman she thought Heather had been. Mia tilted her chin up defiantly, refusing to cower beneath the monster before her and asked, “So what's your big plan now that I messed everything up? You're not gonna be able to just stroll out of here with those kids, you know? Not without Gage, they aren't going to let you past those gates without his approval. Someone's bound to stop you.”

“They can try,” Heather replied confidently. “Of course, you have to realize it's not just me and Jimmy, right? You've made some less than stellar choices around here, but I know you're not that stupid, Mia. We will depart as scheduled and yes, we will just stroll right past those gates and the guards. Those men may seem hardcore, but when faced with the option of death, which choice do you think they'll make?”

“Not everyone is going to cow tow to you. There are some people out there who have backbones. Good people who want to help others. Who want to give those kids a better life than what you want for them,” Mia pointed out, all the while fighting the desire to leap up and murder the damn bitch with her own bare hands. Had it not been for the black specks floating in her vision, throbbing pain in her head that refused to desist, and overwhelming desire to pass out, she liked to think that she would have at least attempted to take Heather down all by herself. As it was, she was in no condition to fight bare handed against a woman who was not only in better health, but had that had crazy element going for her.

“Honey, I'm not worried about some old granny, a wimpy ass gay kid and you're precious lover,” Heather replied with a chuckle, one that grew in intensity when she realized that Mia had no clue that her relationship, whatever it was, with Daryl wasn't quite the secret as she had thought. “Mia, I know that things are different around here since the outbreak, but as a general rule of thumb, if you don't want anyone to know you're fucking someone don't do it on the back porch where anyone can hear or see what you're doing.”

The heat of embarrassment flushed Mia's face at the thought of someone watching her be intimate with Daryl, someone who had obviously been spying on them for quite some time, made her already upset stomach churn just a little bit more furiously. Realizing that it wasn't just her house that was under Heather's watchful eye, she narrowed her gaze and asked, “So that's how you found out about our plans? Spying on some kid? Lucy has too much on the line, family waiting for her back where Daryl's family is, to risk blabbing the plans to just anyone.”

“She didn't blab, well, not technically. Poor dear was worried about me being left behind. You know she works here sometimes, right? Cleans the bathrooms and helps out with the laundry. Well, she was eavesdropping and thought she heard me say I was pregnant, when I was actually talking about Emily, and was scared slap silly at the thought of me being left behind without you to keep me safe.” Heather paused to laugh at the notion, before continuing, “She really is a sweetheart. I almost hate to let her go, but doing so gets me the keys to a free life, so sucks for her.”

“Really bites that her big heart is going to be a punishment for her,” Mia pointed out, hating the thought of anything happening to any of the kids, but especially for the young girl who she had developed a particular fondness for over the years. Sweet, gap toothed, freckled Lucy who wanted nothing more in life than to be loved and protected. “So, what is this master plan you've got cooked up? Might as well tell me, it's obvious I'm not getting out of here to spill the beans to the guards, or whomever else I can turn to my side to keep you from succeeding.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I don't have to worry about you doing a damn thing,” Heather smiled maniacally and Mia cringed, not really wanting to know the fate the crazy ass woman had in store for her. “Ten bodies, that's what I was tasked with to buy my freedom. I'd planned on kids, because let's face it, they're easier to control. Toss a bit of fear in their direction and they do as they're told out of self-preservation. But, when Emily got knocked up, my plans had to be altered. Now, if I could have gotten her out of here without anyone finding out who the daddy was, then hey, that baby would have been just an added bonus, but someone kept being nosy. That someone being you, obviously. Emily came to us, upset and freaking out about you poking your nose into her business and scared of what would happen when you or Gage found out that Jimmy was the one that knocked her up. Needless to say, things got a bit out of hand and Emily didn't make it out alive. Out of this basement, actually.”

“But he's old enough to be her dad,” Mia pointed out with a grimace, truly disturbed by the solid twenty-five year age difference between Jimmy and Emily. Her heart broke for the young lady she had failed and the baby who had never stood a chance, both of which only fueled her determination to ruin not only Heather, but that son of a bitch, Jimmy, as well.

“You know age is just a number, especially this day in age.” Heather stood up and glared down at the folding metal chair with disgust, before turning that stare towards Mia. “Jimmy likes them young, anyway. Let them get over twenty and he loses interest all together. I should know.”

“You and him?” Mia wanted to feel bad for Heather, truly wanted to feel sorry for someone who had been passed around like a television remote and never honestly cared for, but given her current situation she couldn't quite muster up that level of emotion for Heather.

“Years ago. Practically ancient history,” Heather replied with a blank face and her shoulders squared back, but there was a tiny waver in her voice that let Mia know that there was still pain just beneath the uncaring veneer. “He used to work for Queenie, that's the one in charge of this operation. Anyway, he did something that pleased her with a group they brought in and I was his reward.”

Mia tilted her head slightly to the right and stared up at Heather in confusion. Adding up the years since the outbreak, what she thought was Heather's age and Jimmy's apparent preference of teenagers and the math just didn't add up. Putting two and two together, she came up with a possible answer of four and asked, “She owned you before the outbreak, didn't she?”

“Gold star, Mia. See? I knew you were smart.” Heather offered up praise with a sardonic smile and finished the story for Mia. “Queenie, or the Queen Bee, ran a quiet prominent sex ring out of Atlanta long before the outbreak. Scooped me up from the streets, I was a runaway so no one would be looking for me, and took me under her wing. Little did I know at the time, not exactly street smart at the age of thirteen, and took me home with her. In less than a year, the loving mom I thought I had lucked out and found gave me to some old city councilman one night at a dinner party. And the rest, they say was history, until she gave me to Jimmy. After that, I was a one man girl until I turned twenty and he lost interest and sent me back to Queenie. Then, the outbreak happened and Queenie had a harder time bringing in livestock, so she made a deal with me, bring in thirty, and I can be a partner. No more being bought and sold, no more laying on my back pretending to like being fucked so I can eat, no more being owned. I've always been an overachiever, or tried to be anyway, and realized the more I bring in, the faster I get my freedom. I'm ten away from freedom, Mia, and was so close. So very close. And then that shit with Emily happened and I was short one.” Heather paused and chose that moment to sink back onto the chair so she was closer to Mia when she revealed the next part in her plan. “That's where you come in. A little old for most people's taste, but still pretty enough. Nice figure since you swim all the time. Great tits, nice firm ass. I think someone out there will want you, pay a good price. So, I had to change my plans a bit, no longer make you my second in command, which is a loss. But, I still get my freedom. And, in the long run, that's all I want.”

Mia sank back against the wall, the fight momentarily kicked out of her by Heather's revelation, and fought back the urge to cry. She glanced up at Heather and tried to muster up some sarcastic remark, a put down, something, but nothing came out but a damned sob that only fueled the desire to break down all together. Just as she was about to fall apart completely, the basement door open and Jimmy's silhouette peered down at them.

“Need you up here,” Jimmy called out, not bothering to say who exactly he needed since that much was obvious. “That piece of white trash is at the door. Figure he'll listen to whatever answers you give than me.”

“Loverboy's looking for you,” Heather said with a smirk as she stood up to leave and added, “Isn't that sweet?”

Despite the sickening pain radiating through her head, the mounting fear and panic at her current situation, and the tears clinging to her eyelashes as she finally gave in to her sadness, Mia smiled up at Heather and coldly said, “It is sweet, for me. For you? Sweet won't be close to what he does to you when he figures out what you're doing.”

“He's one man, Mia. I've fooled many before him and I will fool him, too.” Heather paused at the bottom of the stairs, one hand on the railing and glanced back at Mia. “You're fate is in my hand and I've already decided it. There's no point in clinging to the hope of being rescued. You'll only end up hurting worse in the end.”

As the basement door closed behind Heather, there was a whisper from the corner of the room. “Don't give up, Mia. Fight her,” Gage murmured softly, his pain evident even in the gently spoken words.

That hope only flared brighter at the sound of Gage's voice, but her tears still fell from her eyes in a mix of sadness and happiness. “I will, Gage. I won't give up,” she whispered back between sniffles. Mia pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her arms around her shins, smiling when she felt the telltale bump of an item she had forgotten all about. Hurriedly, not knowing how long she had until her captors returned, she unzipped her boot and reached in to pull out the knife she had started keeping tucked away there after the outbreak. Holding it up in front of her like a trophy, she added a bit more conviction to her voice and said, “I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the feedback on the last chapter! So glad to hear that you guys are enjoying the story so much that you would want it to be longer!


	47. Chapter 47

_“It's gonna rain, it's gonna rain  
Till the levee breaks  
And a tidal wave of fear and pain carries us away.  
Another fight into the night  
Until nothing else remains.  
How do we find harbor from the hurricane.”_

__

_Thrice “Hurricane”_

Locked away behind closed doors and windows shut tight, Daryl paced the length of Mae's living room like a man possessed. His thumb nails were ragged and bloody from the nervous chewing his anxiety demanded, so much so that even touching them at the moment caused him pain. But pain was a good thing, because pain meant he was still alive. Although, currently, he wasn't sure that was a good thing or not, because until one of the three of them laid eyes on Mia, they weren't sure that she was still among the living and if not, that meant he was cursed to remain among the living while another woman he cared for and failed was not.

Muttering a curse, one of many that he had uttered since being intercepted by Blake after leaving Gage's house and taken to Mae's house for a much needed pow-wow. Unfortunately, after doing his damndest to wear a whole in the antique rug that covered the hard wood floors in Mae's living room, they had yet to concoct a foolproof plan to rescue Mia.

Pausing by the stairs, Daryl grasped hold of the spindles tightly and leaned forward to rest his forehead between them. Growling with frustration, he pushed back the nagging voice in his head that reminded him over and over that he had failed someone else, that his ineptitude had yet again put another woman in peril. While the guilt that ate away at him from inside out was justified in his head, giving in to that insecurity would solve absolutely nothing and if there was a chance that Mia was still alive, then he had to pull his damned self together and focus, instead of wallowing in self-pity.

“Is there any way in Hell that what Heather said was true?” Daryl asked without lifting his head and turning to face Blake and Mae, who were both perched on the edge of a floral and plaid couch that offended even Daryl's eyes. Gritting his teeth, he squeezed his eyes shut and ground out, “That she's in there with him. That they're...together.” He couldn't bring himself to say the word that was in his mind, along with an infuriating visual picture of Mia fucking Gage.

“No,” Mae answered vehemently. The rustle of her skirt let Daryl know that the older woman had pushed off the couch, no doubt in anger if the tone of her voice was any indication of her current mood. “Absolutely not. Gage has loved her, in his own way, for years, but Mia has never returned the same feelings. Sure, she loves him, but he's like a brother to her.”

“You sure?” Daryl asked to make sure Mae was one hundred percent certain, if not just for his own peace of mind. Dropping his hands from the spindles and turning around, he was met with a stony glare that would have caused his balls to shrivel up in fright if he hadn't been relieved to see Mae's certainty at his inquiry about Mia's feelings towards Gage.

“That girl hasn't been with anyone else since she and my son fell in love,” Mae spit out in reply, before her stony eyed glare softened and she started across the room towards him. Standing before Daryl, Mae continued with a much gentler tone to her voice. “Until you.”

“How'd you-” Daryl started to ask how Mae knew about him and Mia, but the words got stuck in his throat. Glancing accusingly at Blake, wondering if he had heard something and spilled the beans to Mia's mother-in-law, but Mae answered the question that he hadn't asked.

“A mother always knows, dear. I may not be Mia's actual mother, but I've watched her grow up and become the woman she is, of course I've learned a few things over the years.” Mae lifted her hand towards Daryl's arm, but paused and dropped her arm back to her side after thinking better of it. Mae Jackson was the type of woman who couldn't help but be a mother and comfort those around her, even to those who weren't her children, but she obviously sensed that Daryl wouldn't be the type to easily accept the comfort she wanted to offer him. Instead, she said, “Mia never said anything to me, if that's what you're worried about. Not that I understand the need for secrecy, you're both consenting adults, but that's none of my nevermind. You've both just got this look about you lately, especially around one another. So, to answer your question, no. There is no way in Hell that Mia is in that house having sex with Gage. Not voluntarily anyway, and while I would like to think that I know Gage well enough to say that he wouldn't do anything against Mia's will...I can't. He's not the same young man that grew up with my son.”

“So, Mia's in there with Gage? And not because she wants to be, right?” Blake chimed in, bringing them back to the topic at hand. Standing up from the couch, he straightened to his complete height of five foot seven and asked, “Well then, how do we get her out of there?”

As if that wasn't the million dollar question.

By the time the three of them formed a plan, a questionable one, but a plan nonetheless, the night was growing closer to dawn than dusk. The candles on the table between them were on their way to burning out, melted to near puddles, but still holding on with enough force to turn the room around them into a golden glow.

“It's the best we can do with what we've got,” Daryl muttered as he pushed out of the arm chair that was covered with a nauseating floral pattern that almost matched the eyesore of a couch, both of them sporting a collection of mauve cabbage roses and ivy leaves. It was the type of living room he imagined most grandmother's having and wondered briefly if he had ever met either of his own grandmother's if theirs would have been as gaudy is Mae's.

“Are you sure you don't want us to come with you?” Blake asked bravely, although the slight waver to his words gave away just how nervous he was. “It doesn't seem right to send you in alone. What if you need help?”

“And you're gonna be the one to do that?” Daryl asked sardonically, glancing over at Blake as he slid his crossbow over his back. Reaching down to the table, he grabbed hold of the .38 revolver he'd picked up at some point during his trip and shoved it in his waistband at his back. “Don't worry about me. Just stick to your part of the plan, you and Mae both. I ain't got time to worry about the two of you, too.”

“Be careful,” Mae called out as Daryl stepped out the front door to be swallowed up by the dark of night, but he didn’t bother to reply, as he had every intention of being as careful as he possibly could.

Sticking to the shadows, Daryl slithered through the inky darkness along the fence line between Mae's house and Gage's as much as possible. Once he got to the backyard of the house next to Gage's, he slipped the crossbow off his back and inched along the fence line as silently as possible, with all of the grace as a hunter stalking its kill. The white privacy fence between the yards was just tall enough to cause him problems, but thanks to Blake, he knew that two of the slats near the middle were loose enough to pry off and slip between. How Blake knew about the shoddy fence work was beyond Daryl, but that knowledge worked in his advantage, so he didn't question it.

At the corner of the yard, Daryl paused and raised his crossbow, using the scope to search the night for the guards he knew without a doubt were hiding in the shadows just as he was. Locating one perched in a tree stand less than fifty yards in front of him, Daryl aimed, took a deep breath and let his arrow loose with deadly precision. One guard down, but the sickening thud of a dead body falling to the ground was loud enough to signal to anyone nearby that something was wrong, so he had to move quickly. Edging along the fence line, he tested the boards for the ones that were allegedly loose and breathed a sigh of relief when he located them.

Daryl stepped through the fence and crouched, keeping low to the ground as he made his way towards the motionless body between him and the back door. He paused long enough to yank the arrow from the man's head, before darting as silently as possible towards the back deck. Tucked away beneath the shadow of the awning, he scanned with predator's eyes along the trees on the opposite end of the yard and found nothing lurking above. Mentally crossing his fingers, he turned his back towards the yard and peered through the slatted blinds into kitchen, both dark and empty.

Testing the door, he found it to be locked, not that he had expected otherwise, but a man could dream. Glancing around he considered his options, which weren't many. He could either scale the back of the house and hope that one of the windows above his head were open, slip around to the front and go in gun's blazing, or see if there was a way to get in through the basement. Opting out of the first two choices out of self-preservation alone, he leaped over the porch railing in one fluid move and darted towards the in ground basement doors that were common on older homes, often leading down to the root cellar. After sliding the thick metal rod out from the housings on the front of the doors, he nearly cried out in relief when he realized that the doors were unlocked.

Either luck was on his side tonight, or what little he had was about to run slap out, Daryl thought as he started to pull open one of the doors and cringed when the hinge made a shrill grinding noise. Freezing like a criminal caught in the act of a crime, Daryl glanced around and prayed to whatever god might be listening that the sound didn't catch the attention of someone inside the house. After a few moments, Daryl released the breath of air he'd been holding in when no one came barreling towards him with their guns drawn and eased himself down into the black hole of uncertainty that was the basement.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Daryl muttered, his words barely even audible to himself, as he attempted to navigate through the damn near pitch black room without either injuring or calling attention to himself. Between the darkness and not knowing the layout of the room, he couldn't keep his crossbow ready to aim and instead had it tossed over his back in favor of searching out the abyss with the half loaded revolver, which would work long enough to distract anyone that came at him and allow him to get his bow...in theory anyway.

Inching along at an agonizingly slow pace, he stopped when his foot brushed against something that definitely didn't feel like a piece of furniture. Tentatively, he nudged his boot against whatever it was and felt his stomach drop when he realized that what he was touching was hard and rounded like a boot. Dropping slowly to a crouch, he moved his hand along the cool cement of the basement floor in search of the leg that the boot was attached to and slid the palm of his hand directly into a puddle of moisture that was sticky and thick, and the coppery smell of the substance reached his nose a split second before his brain registered what he was touching. Squeezing his eyes tightly shut, he grimaced and pushed aside the nausea that washed over him, not out of disgust at touching blood, but from the possibility of who that blood belonged to.

Continuing on in his quest, he slid his palm along the floor, no doubt smearing the blood along in the wake of his hand, until he found the body responsible for the fluids. Patting along the side of the person, he nearly wept with relief when he realized that it was very much a male he was touching and not Mia.

“Who's there?” Mia's voice called out to him in the darkness, her words shaky and scared. Then, softer, she said, “I hear you.”

His heart clenched with happiness at the sound of her voice, despite the tears and terror he heard in her words. All that mattered at that moment was that Mia was alive, he had not totally failed her just yet. Wiping his bloody hand against his pants, Daryl stood up and slowly started inching towards the other side of the room. “Mia? It's me,” Daryl called out softly to her, his words barely a whisper, but in the silence of the room it might as well had been a scream. “Talk to me, so I can find you.”

“Daryl?” Mia asked, her voice wavering somewhere between a whimper and a sob. “You ...you came for me?”

“Course I did,” Daryl whispered in return as he dropped to his knees before Mia, started to reach for her and thought better of it, knowing that if he gave in to his need to take her in his arms he would never let her go and they didn't have time for that at the moment. Searching out for her hands, he asked, “They tie you up?”

“No, said there wasn't a need for it since I was locked in here,” Mia explained, searching out for him as he was for her and grabbing hold of his free hand. Holding on to him like the lifeline he was, Mia's voice trembled as she continued, “Daryl, it wasn't Gage. This whole time it wasn't who we thought. It was-”

The sudden sound of the basement door swinging open to bounce against the wall behind it halted Mia's explanation of what happened and Daryl stood up quickly, pulled Mia up along with him and shoving her behind him protectively. She faltered and fell against his back, no doubt tired from being in the basement damn near a whole day without food and water, and Daryl struggled to remain upright, but managed to balance himself out as he pulled the revolver up in front of him.

“Figured you'd show up here again,” Jimmy said as he descended the stairs with a lantern in one hand and a Glock in front of him, trained on Daryl as he took the last step down into the basement. Glaring at Daryl in disgust, he said, “Thinking with your dick gets you in trouble every time.”

Before Daryl could respond, Heather appeared at the top of the stairs, her amused expression highlighted by the lantern she held out to guide her into the basement. “You're one to talk, Jimmy,” she chided as she stepped around her partner in crime. “You're the poster boy for thinking with his dick, dontcha think? I mean, that is what got us into this predicament.”

Jimmy's eyed glowed with anger as they trailed after Heather as she moved to stand before Daryl, but he wisely chose to not say anything in return. Instead, he kept his mouth shut and his arm raised to keep the pistol trained on Daryl and Mia as Heather turned towards them with a wicked smile.

“Now, whatever am I going to do with you, Daryl?” She asked with false sweetness as she eyed him like a predator searching out its prey. With steel plated balls of braveness, Heather stepped in front of Daryl without a hint of fear for the revolver in his hand as she reached out and slipped it from his grasp. “The way I see it, you have two choices. One, you can stand there bravely in front of Mia and give your life to save hers, which really isn't a good choice since I'm just going to sell her to the highest bidder once we get out of here. Or, two, you can be a good little boy and come join the winning team.”

Daryl should have been shocked at finding out that sweet, mild mannered Heather was actually the evil mastermind, but he wasn't. Everyone had a dark side and since the end of the world, it was becoming more and more common for a person to give in to that darkness. To be perfectly honest, he was more shocked when someone turned out to be a genuinely good person and that was the sad state of affairs the world was in these days.

So, even with his crossbow slung across his back and his gun on the table beside Heather, Daryl refused to back down and accept one of the two pathetic options laid out for him to choose between. “Yeah, ain't happening. I'll take what's behind door number three.”

“Oh, really? And, what's that? Because I don't see any other option.” Heather laughed and glanced back at Jimmy with a smirk on her face, which gave Daryl just the opening he needed to attack.

Launching himself at Heather, they toppled over onto the table beside her with a thud, landing on the floor beside the broken lantern as its fluid spilled and it licked the floor with its flames. Scrambling for the gun that skittered away from them, his skin burned where Heather's nails bit into his flesh as she clawed at him furiously. The crossbow on his back hindered his movements, but out of sheer will to survive, his fingers grabbed hold of the butt of the gun at the same time Heather was wrenched off his back a split second before the sound of Jimmy's gun discharging echoed through the room and a scream pierced the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoy the update!


	48. Chapter 48

_"And how far have we come, too far to throw away the past  
Will you be there waiting for me  
I have to ask what we are, if I ask today it just won't last  
So, I'll be here waiting for you."_

__

_Trapt "Made of Glass"  
_

While her fear wanted to hold on to the knife as tight as possible, a sliver of logic prevailed in Mia's mind and told her that there was less of a chance of her captor's finding out about the weapon if it was tucked back into her boot until the time was right. As much as she wanted to cling to the innocuous folding knife, Mia pushed it back into the top of her boot where she had found it, tightly tucked between the worn denim of her blue jeans and the leather of her lace up boots.

The door to the basement remained closed and, she assumed, locked and Mia wondered how long she had until one or both of the evil bastards upstairs came back to taunt her. Heather had mentioned that Mia's lover boy had come to her rescue and one could only assume that she meant Daryl, but for the life of her, Mia could not wrap her mind around how he was going to manage to save her from the dank basement that was her current prison. Unless he came in gun's a blazing, she highly doubted that she was being broken out of confinement any time soon. The man may operate at night like a ninja in regards to springing captives from various compounds, but from what Mia could tell, those rescue missions involved him creeping around a compound in the cover of darkness as he pierced the brains of the sleeping captor's before anyone was none the wiser of what he was doing, before skirting away to parts unknown with the rescued women and children.

A far cry from bursting into Gage's home without any knowledge as to the layout or who was stationed where, all by his lonesome as he shot up the place and risked taking out everyone inside, including her, as he had no clue as to what her exact location was. Not to mention that Jimmy had come down to tell Heather that Daryl was on the front porch, basically sending out the beautiful and doe eyed concubine to coerce him into believing whatever tale she concocted to get him to trot on back home without asking any more questions. Mia had to give it to the couple, they at least knew how to play up their strengths.

Figuring she only had a limited amount of time to work with, Mia maneuvered herself onto her hands and knees in preparation of crawling across the basement to check on Gage, who had yet to say anything else since before she located her pitiful excuse of a weapon. Groaning against the pain in her head, Mia halted her movements as a white hot sting of pain radiated at the base of her skull. Nausea swarmed through her weakened body, but as there was nothing in her stomach to purge, all the pain accomplished was a brief moment of dry heaving. Mia spit the small amount of bile from her otherwise empty stomach onto the cement between her hands and mentally calculated when the last time she ate was, figuring on it being sometime around lunch the day before and, even then, it had only been a meager serving of Mae's vegetable soup. On the upside, barely eating and only existing on her heartache for the past few weeks meant she had nothing to throw up thanks to the obvious concussion she was sporting, but on the downside, the lack of nutrition had clearly left her weaker than she thought, since even scuttling across the floor on her hands and knees had her huffing and puffing from exertion.

Finally, after what seemed far longer than it actually had been, Mia was on the other side of the rapidly darkening basement. Staring down at Gage's prone form, regret and guilt filled her heart at thinking he was responsible for the level of depravity and evil that Heather and her minion, Jimmy, were capable of. How much time with her childhood best friend had her assumptions wasted? How could she have honestly thought he was responsible for whatever evil she had concocted in her head?

“Gage?” Mia whispered, leaning over close to his hulking form that lay still on the floor just in front of her knees. Relief washed through her at the feel of his breath on her hand when she reached forward to check beneath his nose for some sign of life. With a shaky hand, Mia grasped Gage's hand and held on tight, hating the feel of his cold, clammy skin against hers; a sure sign of how little life he had left in him, as his skin was usually quite warm. “Gage? Can you hear me?”

“Mia?” His voice was weak, softly spoken with pain heavily laced through it. “You gotta figure out a way to get out of here. She's not,” he paused to cough as pain wracked through his body and expelled itself in the form of blood coughed out onto the floor in front of him. “She's not going to let you go.”

“I'll figure something out,” Mia replied with little conviction in her voice, not sure how she was going to accomplish such a feat. Changing the subject so he didn't figure out that she was clueless in the matter of her own rescue, Mia asked, “Where did they hurt you? What happened?”

“I don't know exactly,” Gage ground out between clenched teeth as another wave of pain wracked his body and Mia felt the sticky wet heat of his blood leak out and seep into the denim covering her knees. Managing to remain calm, despite the overwhelming need to be grossed out, Mia set about searching his body for wounds while he continued in a dreamy, almost far off voice. “She fooled me. Heather. When I said no, she shot me.”

Mia's hand slid beneath Gage's blood soaked shirt and slipped along the slick skin until her fingers touched the gunshot wound at the same time Gage announced he had been shot. Pushing aside another wave of nausea, Mia retracted her hand and quickly scanned the room in the dying light for something to put against the wound to apply pressure and soak up the blood. Spying a rag on a nearby table, she crawled over and grabbed it, only to realize it was quite a bit dirtier than she had hoped, but it was the only thing she had and figured it was better than nothing at all.

Scurrying back towards her fallen friend, Mia pushed up the edge of his shirt to reveal the perfect abs that more than one young woman had gushed about before the outbreak and murmured an apology to Gage before pushing the rag against the wound on his stomach. “You gotta hang on, okay? I'll get us out of here somehow.”

“Mia, stop,” Gage ordered as forcefully as he could, reaching up to grab hold of her hands and halt her pathetic attempt at halting the blood flow. With one hand resting on top of hers on his stomach, Gage lifted his other hand to wipe away the tears that Mia had no clue had spilled from her eyes in a waterfall of sadness and despair. “Shhh, it's okay. It's gonna be....okay.”

“No, it's not. It won't be.” Mia sobbed, managing to get the words out between gasps for air as she tried to halt not only the blood flow, but her tears as well. Tears could come later, when they were safe. Tears were useless to her now. Glancing up at Gage's face, she saw the resolution in his features, the sheer acceptance of an inevitable death. Breaking down, she wept earnestly and spilled those useless tears onto his nearly lifeless body. “I'm so sorry, Gage. I'm sorry I didn't trust in you more. I'm sorry I didn't love you enough to know you'd never do something so horrible.”

“You loved...,” Gage coughed again and the amount of dark red blood that spit out proved just how futile the lifesaving attempts she was making truly were. Grasping hold of both of her hands, he continued, “me...you loved me enough. None of this is your fault. You...have to save them...the kids.”

“I don't know how, Gage. Tell me how,” Mia begged, hating herself just a little bit more for putting the responsibility she didn't have onto Gage's shoulders as he was dying beneath her.  
“Front pocket,” Gage whispered, his eyes closed now as he obviously tried to conserve as much energy as he could. “My keys.”

Removing her hands from his, she fumbled to get into the front pocket of his cargo pants. The slick blood that coated her skin slowed down the process significantly, but she finally manage to grab hold of the ring of keys. Looking down at the medium sized key ring that was heavy in the palm of her hand, Mia said, “Got them. Now what?”

“The orange one. It's...backdoor to kid's house,” Gage tried to explain, but his voice kept cutting in and out as the last vestiges of his blood slowly seeped out. “Night. Take them out back. Trees. Run.”

“The back door, the one that exits out directly into the woods? If we go at night, they shouldn't be able to see us from there. Not if we stay in the trees.” Mia nodded, thankfully understanding the cryptically spoken directions. “I'll do it. As soon as I figure out how to get out of here, I'll get everyone out.”

“Don't trust no one. Just go. Kill...try...stop,” Gage wheezed, trying his best to tell her that he didn't trust anyone else in the compound and Mia didn't blame him. Hell, Heather hadn't even been on her list of suspects and look how that had turned out. “Mia?”

“Yeah, Gage?”

“I love...y-,” Gage choked out, coughing on his own blood one final time before his hands went limp in hers.

Mia sat there, silent and broken, staring down at Gage's lifeless body as the last dregs of his blood flowed from his body to soak into the fabric of her jeans and coat the smooth leather of her boots. She held is hand, despite it being limp in her grasp, clutching to her childhood friend as the sadness and regrets in her heart spilled over to fall down onto his dead body until night fully crept in and plunged them both into pure darkness.

Panic filled Mia as the pitch of night took over her surroundings, trapping her in her own fear of total darkness with a dead man who could transform into a starving, flesh eating madman at any given moment. Dropping her hold on his hands, Mia frantically clawed at the edge of her boot with blood slick hands until she managed to pull loose the knife she had only just returned to its hiding spot. Fumbling with the blade, she flipped it out and clutched the hilt in a trembling hand while feeling along Gage's motionless body with her other hand until she found the soft spot of his temple, the perfect place to stab the blade into his head and stop the sick transformation going on in his brain.

When the heartbreaking and yet, disgusting task was complete, Mia wiped the blade of the knife off as best as she could on her clothes before folding it back up and returning it to her boot. After watching one of her best friends die and then making sure he stayed that way, a bone weary sickness filled her body and had her crab crawling backwards until she was backed up against the opposite wall. Distance didn't help the emotional upheaval, but it did keep her from wallowing in his blood and other bodily fluids that leaked out after death.

Nauseous once more, Mia pulled her knees in towards her chest and rested her head back against the cool concrete of the wall. Taking deep breaths, she did her best to control the sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach, as well as lower the fast paced racing of her heart. Without a clock or the movement of the sun to gauge time as it passed, Mia had no clue how long she had been stuck in the basement or how long I had been since Heather went upstairs to answer the door, presumably for Daryl. Mia's heart hurt and her stomach sank at the realization that he hadn't come in with gun's blazing in attempts to rescue her and she wondered just what lie Heather fabricated to make Daryl go home without demanding to see her.

Lost in her own maudlin thoughts, the sound of a door opening somewhere pulled her back into the harsh reality of life. Instantly assuming the sound was from either Heather or Jimmy returning to finish whatever they'd started earlier, her breath caught in her throat as she waited for one of them to light a candle or lantern so they could see in the darkness, but nothing happened. She waited, her heart seemingly beating in her throat as something scuttled across the floor, the faint brushing of feet against the floor, but no one said a thing or appeared in front of her. Figuring she was halfway around the bend towards crazy town, a nearly hysterical laugh bubbled up in her throat and nearly spilled over, but another sound caught her attention.

“Who's there?” Mia called out to him in the darkness, her words just as shaky as her tenuous grip on her sanity. When no one responded fast enough for her liking, she added softly, “I hear you.”

“Mia? It's me,” Daryl called out to her after what seemed like a lifetime of waiting. His voice was soft, but surprisingly calm, or deceptively so, when he continued, “Talk to me, so I can find you.”

“Daryl?” Mia asked, her voice wavering somewhere between a whimper and a sob. “You ...you came for me?”

“Course I did,” Daryl whispered as he sank down in front of her, an action that she felt more than saw at the moment. She felt his hands caress over her arms a split second before he asked, “They tie you up?”

“No, said there wasn't a need for it since I was locked in here,” Mia explained, trying not to feel insulted that her captors didn't find her threatening enough to secure, finding her neither strong enough to fight back or smart enough to escape. Reaching out to Daryl, she started to quickly explain what was going on, “Daryl, it wasn't Gage. This whole time it wasn't who we thought. It was-"

Unfortunately, her explanation was cut short by the sound of the basement door thudding against the wall as someone pushed it open with a bit more force than necessary. Before she could process which one of her captors was making an appearance, Daryl was on his feet and tucking her safely behind him to face Jimmy as he strode down the stairs with a lantern in one hand and his pistol in the other. Mia faltered behind Daryl and struggled to remain upright as the pain in her head made her weak and sheer exhaustion tugged at her limbs, but she managed to stay upright and steady herself by placing her hands against Daryl's back in time to see him pull a revolver from the waistband of his pants and point it directly at the asshole heading in their direction.

“Figured you'd show up here again,” Jimmy said, his comments obviously directed towards Daryl as he added a grimace of disgust. “Thinking with your dick gets you in trouble every time.”

Mia felt the muscles in Daryl's back tighten beneath her palms, tensing for a fight that she wasn't confident either one of them could win. Before Daryl could respond to Jimmy's taunts, Heather appeared at the top of the stairs, pausing on the landing like a pageant queen about to descend to staircase after winning. She smiled brightly as she started her descent, trailing the fingertips of one hand playfully down the railing with each step, before stepping down into the basement with the rest of them. She held out the lantern she held in one hand and chided her partner in crime as she stepped around him with an amused expression. “You're one to talk, Jimmy. You're the poster boy for thinking with his dick, dontcha think? I mean, that is what got us into this predicament.”

Peeking over Daryl's shoulder towards Jimmy, Mia saw the anger that radiated in his gaze as his eyes trailed after Heather as she moved to stand before Daryl. Mia was amazed at his ability to keep his trap shut after the comments his partner had made towards him, having known Jimmy and his hairpin trigger of a temper, but he somehow managed to keep his lips zipped and gun trained on her and Daryl, like a good little henchman.

“Now, whatever am I going to do with you, Daryl?” Heather asked, her voice all but dripping with a fake, saccharine tone as she stepped in front of Daryl and slipped his revolver from his grasp without a flicker of fear in her predatory gaze. “The way I see it, you have two choices. One, you can stand there bravely in front of Mia and give your life to save hers, which really isn't a good choice since I'm just going to sell her to the highest bidder once we get out of here. Or, two, you can be a good little boy and come join the winning team.”

“Yeah, ain't happening. I'll take what's behind door number three,” Daryl said in a voice that was full of gravel and grit as he stared down the bitch in front of them.

“Oh, really? And, what's that? Because I don't see any other option.” Laughter bubbled out from between Heather's perfectly painted lips and she tossed an amused glance over her shoulder towards Jimmy, unknowingly giving Daryl a perfect moment to strike.

The sudden loss of Daryl's body caused Mia to topple over and collapse to the floor at the same time he tackled heather and tumbled over the table with a loud thud. The lantern Heather had perched on the table clattered to the ground and shattered against the concrete floor, spilling out the liquid inside and instantly setting the ground on fire. Flames licked along the fluid coated floor, spreading towards the couple that was struggling on the ground.

Finding strength she didn't know she had, Mia pulled herself up from the ground and stumbled forward, despite the barrel of Jimmy's gun faltering between herself and the tangle of limbs on the floor. Grabbing hold of Heather's hair, Mia tugged with all of her might until the woman let go of her hold on Daryl's and tumbled backwards to the ground on top of Mia. A howl of inhuman proportions tore from Heather's lips as she struggled to turn the tables on Mia, who had a firm hold on the mass of hair in her hands, but the upper hand she had ran out far too fast, thanks to the concussion, the weakness and the pain in her head.

Heather somehow managed to pull her hair free from Mia's hands, leaving behind a chunk of light brown hair tangled between Mia's fingers, and rolled them over until Heather managed to gain the upper hand. Clawing at the hands that were now around her throat, Mia struggled against the hold and tried her best to gasp for air that was barely getting through Heather's surprisingly strong hold. Digging in the tips of her nails into Heather's skin, Mia fought like her life depended on it, because it actually did and just as she bucked and rolled them over, the sharp sound of a pistol firing split through the air, but she never felt the searing pain of its bullet landing in her skin.

Heather's hold on her loosened as the woman went slack behind her and Mia scurried away from the woman like a frantic crab, backing into the nearby wall as she gasped for a much needed breath and glanced around the room wildly to see what was going on. Heather lay in a dark pool of her own blood as poetic justice for shooting Gage took hold, Jimmy's bullet had hit the wrong mark and took out the woman he had been gifted so many years ago, like a fleshy piece of currency.

Darting her eyes towards the other side of the room, Mia's eyes widened even further as Jimmy lay in a heap just to her left with an arrow protruding grotesquely from his cheek. The green tipped arrow had narrowly missed plunging into Jimmy's eye socket, but had landed with deadly accuracy nonetheless.

She probably should have felt bad about so much senseless death, but she just couldn't muster up the wherewithal to give a fucking damn about Heather and Jimmy as they bled out onto the floor.


	49. Chapter 49

_“Remember we die  
But you're still alive  
So don't let go  
Cause it's the only thing you know  
There's plenty of time  
To see the other side.”_

_Gemini Syndrome “Remember We Die”_

 

The fire from the broken lantern started to spread further, burning brightly as it licked across the floor, eating away at the spilled oil to gain momentum. Hungry and alive, it spread faster than Daryl had hoped as it reached the base of the stairs and slowly started to devour their easiest means of escape. Cursing, Daryl placed the sole of one boot against Jimmy's head and used it as leverage to pull the bolt out of the dead man's head. After wiping it off against the leg of his pants, Daryl reloaded the bolt into his crossbow before turning his full attention back to Mia and escaping.

She had yet to move from the floor, where she sat and stared at the growing fire before her. Judging by the glassy eyed expression and pale complexion, Daryl could only assume that the brief rush of adrenaline from her fight with Heather had worn off and the shock of the situation was fully settling in. Daryl squatted down in front of Mia and frowned when she didn't notice his presence.

“Mia? We gotta get moving,” Daryl demanded, snapping his fingers in front of her eyes when she didn't respond to him. He knew that sometimes slapping a person could bring them out of the semi-comatose state that shock could bring on, but he wasn't keen on resorting to that method just yet. Snapping again, he spoke louder and said, “Mia! Come on, look at me!”

The laughter that Mia let loose was bubbly and borderline hysterical, but once it died down she finally met his worried gaze. Daryl sighed with relief, loving the sight of her clear yet teary eyed glare. “You okay to walk? She didn't hurt you, did she?”

Mia blinked at him once before slowly shaking her head from side to side. “I'm okay,” she whispered in response, repeating it once more as though she needed to convince herself, too. “I'm okay, I...I can walk.”

“Then let's go.” Daryl stood up and held out a hand for Mia to take, lifting her from the ground with little to no effort. She wasn't a full figured woman to begin with, but weeks of depression and not eating had turned her lithe body more towards rail thin and Daryl made a mental note to get food into her as soon as possible. “We ain't got much of a choice on getting out of here,” he said grimly as he gestured towards the stairway that was quickly on its way to becoming kindling.

Unfortunately, the way he had come in was not an option as far as escaping, as the ladder that had been there since the house had been built had given way beneath his feet when he had attempted to sneak into the basement. Now, only half of the wooden rungs remained in place and not close enough in spacing to assist them in crawling out through the still opened hatch. Heading towards the stairs, Daryl assessed the situation before glancing back at Mia. “Keep close to the wall. Flames ain't had time to get close to it yet. Go quick, don't stop for nothing.”

Mia nodded in agreement, far too silent for Daryl's liking since her ghostly pale complexion and glassy eyed stare had yet to fully return to normal. If it wasn't for the crossbow in his hands and need for speed, he would gather her into his arms for the escape, because she looked about half dead as she swayed on her feet. As soon as they could reach somewhere safe, he fully intended on getting her fed and rested.

Daryl muttered a curse to himself, before raising his crossbow in front of him just in case someone came through the basement door and placing one foot tentatively on the closest stair. When it didn't give way beneath his weight, Daryl damn near sprinted towards the partially opened doorway. Once at the top, he resisted the urge to turn his back towards the hallway and watch Mia make her way up to him, because the best course of action was to make sure the first level of the house they were about to walk into was clear.

After a quick scan of the closest rooms, Daryl hurried back to find Mia standing in the darkened foyer near the front door. “Best bet's gonna be to head out the back. Fire's gonna give us a distraction anyhow, but most of the help's gonna come in through the front.”

Mia said nothing in return, simply falling in line behind him like a good little solider, a trait that he normally preferred, but at that moment her compliance was annoying the shit out of him. But, he didn't have any spare time on his hands to poke and prod at her until she yelled or cursed at him out of anger. There were other things they had to accomplish before the sun came up and Daryl feared that they didn't have a whole lot of time before that happened.

Pushing the backdoor open slowly, Daryl eased out on to the porch cautiously. Sweeping the end of the crossbow over the nearest surroundings, he held the bow out in front of him with his right hand and motioned with his left for Mia to follow behind him. Silently, they edged along the exterior of the property stealthily as they made their way in the opposite direction of the frantic voices Daryl heard approaching the burning home. Few houses had full privacy fences between them, often just low wooden structures to mark the property lines, so easing over them required little effort. The only yard that had a full privacy fence was at the house between where they were and the house they were making their way to, but thankfully, the mounting fire at Gage's house gave them the distraction they needed to slip out through the gate and dart across the dew moistened grass towards the front door of the home where the kids were located.

“What are we doing here?” Mia asked, her voice ever so slightly higher than a whisper as she tugged on the hemline of his shirt to slow him down as the front door opened and Mae poked her head out to see who was on the front porch. The relief in the older woman's eyes at the sight of the two of them was evident even in the low light of the night.

“I'll explain when we're inside,” Daryl replied hastily, glancing over his shoulder towards Gage's house before pushing Mia inside of the house as Mae closed and locked the door behind them. Glancing back at Mae, he asked, “Everything ready?”

“Blake's finishing up, he should be on his way back now,” Mae answered, worriedly glancing out the small window in the center of the front door, no doubt in hopes of seeing the red headed young man sprinting up the walkway. “What's going on at Gage's? Why is everyone running that way?”

“Fire,” Daryl replied without bothering to elaborate. He stepped into the living room to find all of the children, from ages eighteen to five, were dressed and waiting as patiently as possible for the next course of action. “We all set here? Everyone got what they need?”

“Damn it, Daryl! Tell me what the hell is going on!” Mia demanded, her voice rising with each syllable as fear and anxiety mounted inside of her. With two lanterns placed on the mantle lighting the room in a golden hue, Daryl could easily see the borderline hysteria in her hazel eyes, as well as the dark maroon dried blood coating her pants, hands and forearms.

“Jesus,” he muttered, finally taking in her ghastly appearance now that they were out of Gage's basement. How in the hell had he overlooked that much blood on her clothes and skin? Closing the small gap between them, he dropped his bow to the ground and frantically started searching her for injuries. “Where are you hurt? What's bleeding so much?”

“What?” Mia asked, clearly confused by the sudden intrusion of her body as he pulled at the stiff bloody clothes in search of any open wounds. Batting away his hands, Mia said, “I'm okay. I said I'm okay. It's Gage's. Well, most of it, but I'm okay, Daryl. Now tell me what's going on, please?”

“We're getting the hell out of here, that's what's going on.” Daryl frowned at Mia, still not happy about the state of her appearance and unsure if she was telling the truth about being hurt or not. Motioning towards Mae, he said, “Go with her to get cleaned up. Make sure she ain't hurt.”

“You are not the boss of me, damn it,” Mia growled as she glowered back at him. “I'm fine. They're just clothes, I can change later.”

“And the kids are looking at you like a ghost,” Daryl ground out between clenched teeth. “We ain’t' going nowhere until Blake gets back no how. Now go let Mae help you get clean.”

Because God only knew he needed a damned moment to breathe as he figured out the next step in the plan, Daryl let out a sigh of relief as Mia stomped out of the room with Mae hot on her heels. Glancing over at the row of kids, Daryl felt yet another brick of weight be added to his shoulders at the thought of just how many people he was going to be responsible for this time and wondered for the millionth time since he and Mia started conspiring if he could carry out the scheme without a hitch. There was a lot riding on his capabilities this time around and that thought alone made him sick to his stomach.

Pushing aside his morose thoughts, he glanced at the oldest girl, Keisha, and asked, “Everyone got what they need? What they can carry easily?”

“Yes sir,” Keisha answered, her dark chocolate gaze filled with nervous energy as she glanced down the line of children. “The little ones have less, obviously, but I put more in the older one's packs to make up for it. My pack is full, heavy, but I can manage.”

“Good. Soon as Blake gets back and Mia gets cleaned up we're getting out of here. Gonna need you to help out as much as you can, got too many to keep an eye on everyone myself.” Daryl felt that knot of anxiety twist in his stomach once more at the thought of how many children he had to transport safely, but at least the older children seemed capable enough and able bodied to help out with the smaller kids while he took point.

“Daryl?” Lucy asked, her freckles standing out against pale skin as fear no doubt plagued her as well. “How long 'til we get to my sister? Is it far?”

“Gonna take a while, kid. This many people walking? Maybe a month? Could be less. Don't really know,” Daryl replied honestly, doing his best to keep Lucy from getting her hopes up too high. “Just keep your eyes open, stay with the group, and do what I say, and it shouldn't take much longer than that. Two months at the most, but don't think it'll take that long.”

“Do you think she's still there? That's she's safe?” Lucy asked nervously, knowing full well the dangers of the world, despite her young age.

“She's fine, or was last time I was there.” Daryl answered without really looking at the kid, hoping he wasn't telling her a lie that would break her heart. Strolling over to the window, he pulled back an edge of the blinds and glanced out the front to check on the situation down the street.

The fire had spread, far quicker than he had thought it would, and now consumed what looked like the majority of the lower level of the home. Flames burst through the windows, gasping for air like any living creature, and devouring the home hungrily. In the shadows around the golden hued devil, Daryl could make out the shape of a thin frame heading towards him in the middle of the street, its red hair standing out brightly in the wake of the fire.

Hurrying to the door, Daryl threw it open and ushered Blake inside. Arms laden with the items he had been sent to procure, Daryl shut the door and locked it as the young man deposited two backpacks on the floor just inside the foyer, leaving one on his back. “Anyone give you any trouble?”

“Not a bit. Everyone's trying to stop the fire at Gage's,” Blake replied breathlessly. “Good idea, by the way. No better way to distract the guards than with a massive ass fire.”

“Wasn't planned,” Daryl murmured in return as he nudged the packs with the tip of his boot. “You get everything?”

“Clothes, first aid, some food. Shoved what I could find in them.” Blake gestured towards the one on his back and said, “Good thing Mia started working on these months ago. I didn't have to put much else in them other than some clothes. She'd already packed the first aid and some food she'd pilfered in to them.”

Bending down, Daryl picked up his trusty backpack and hefted the unusually heavy bag up and onto his back. He had barely had a chance to adjust the straps on his shoulders when Mia and Mae started down the stairs. “We best get the show on the road. Need to get out of here before sun up. Ain't got much longer,” Daryl ordered, hating the sight of orange in the sky outside the front door that had nothing to do with the raging fire down the block.

“Here,” Mia said, thrusting something out towards him. “Gage said to use them. Go out the back, instead of out front. We can run straight to the woods from the back porch.”

“Better idea than what I had,” Daryl replied, dangling the set of keys in front of them like a prized trout. Giving Mia a quick once over, he glanced towards Mae for a truthful answer and asked, “She okay?”

“I'm standing right here,” Mia pointed out sourly. Scrubbed clean in borrowed clothes, judging by the too tight shirt that under normal circumstances would have caught his attention in a more testosterone filled way, she at least appeared healthy enough to travel. But, there was something in the way she glanced towards Mae that had Daryl questioning just how truthful she was being with him.

“She's fine enough for now,” Mae answered after assessing Mia's intense case of side eye. Glancing back towards Daryl, she added, “She needs food and rest though.”

“As soon as we can stop,” Daryl said, promising without actually saying the words. He had no set travel plan, having been thrown into action without making out a course of action with a map. They had to put as much proverbial pavement between this town and them as soon as possible, which meant a quick pace, but traveling with this many children meant that the pace he wanted might not happen. Therefore, it might be sooner rather than later when they made their first stop.

Heading towards the kitchen, Daryl made a beeline for the padlocked backdoor and hurriedly searched through the keys in his hand until he found the one that fit. Pulling open the door, hinges creaking loudly from not being used in years, Daryl stepped cautiously out onto the worn back porch and held up a hand for the rest of them to wait while he cleared the immediate area. Once he was certain it was safe enough, he headed back to the open door, laid out the short plan of getting the younger kids out first, and said, “Let's get on with it then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I'm not a fan of this chapter. Probably I'm being too hard on myself, but I really am not happy with the way this one turned out. I worked a lot of hours last week and got some pretty crappy news over the weekend that left me unbelievably sad, so it could just be that I wasn't feeling in the write-y mood when I finally got a chance to churn this one out.


	50. Chapter 50

_“My head is haunting me and my heart feels like a ghost,  
I need to feel something ‘cause I’m still so far from home.  
Cross your heart and hope to die,  
Promise me you’ll never leave my side.”_

__

Bring Me the Horizon “Follow You”

Following the glow of Mae's lantern, Mia hurried up the stairs behind the older woman to get cleaned up, doing her best to tamp down her annoyance with Daryl and not give in to the childish desire to stomp up the stairs loudly. She hated being talked about as though she was not in the room, something that Gage had started doing more often over the past few years, and to have Daryl and Mae carry on in front of her like she was not there was beyond aggravating. But, while she was a grown damn woman who could make her own decisions, he was right in the fact that she did look like she had gone head to head with the big bad in a slasher film and looking that way would be upsetting to the kids. So, for the time being, she pushed aside her own personal feel-ings on the matter and pulled on her proverbial big girl undies and headed upstairs to clean up quickly.

Squeezing into the upstairs bathroom behind Mae, Mia immediately tugged her shirt over her head, grimacing at the realization that a good bit of the blood had not dried yet and was moist to the touch. She hadn't realized that her head had bled that much to cause her shirt to be as coated with blood as it was. Her pants? Sure, she had kneeled in Gage's blood long enough for the denim to become saturated, hence the now crusty and stiff pants legs she was dealing with, but her shirt? The only explanation there was that the gash to the back of her head had bled far longer than she had thought it had done.

Grimacing as she tugged the shirt over her head, she barely managed to stifle a groan from the pain in her limbs and upper body as she tossed the soaked garment to the floor. Between being hit in the head, not eating or drinking anything in over a day, and fighting with Heather, every inch of her body either ached from exhaustion or screamed in pain. Oh, what she would not give for a hot bath and a muscle relaxer, plus maybe a glass or three of wine.

"Mia? What in the...why didn't you say you were hurt?" Mae asked sharply, her voice cutting through Mia's daydreams of relaxing in a tub of scalding hot water that was topped with a pile of frothy lavender scented bubbles. Mia had little time to reply before Mae's fingers started poking at her torso.

"Ouch!" Mia yelped as she jumped away from the older woman's touch, which was typ-ically soft and gentle, but more closely resembled a hot poker at the current moment. Scowling at Mae, Mia had a curse on the tip of her tongue but realized that what was causing her pain was not Mae's fingers, but those fingertips touching something on her torso...an injury she had not realized she had earned during the fight with Heather.

"You can tell me what happened while we get it cleaned up, it's still oozing pretty good. Hand me the washcloth on that rod," Mae ordered, instantly transforming from worried mother hen into an efficient nurse in a blink of an eye.

"I don't know what happened," Mia replied honestly as she handed over the washcloth and gingerly inspected the wound while Mae wet the cloth in the bucket by the basin. Not sure how much Mae actually knew about what she and Daryl had been dealing with, she quickly filled her in on the adventure she'd had in the basement at Gage's house. "It was Heather and Jimmy, by the way, not Gage. She tricked me into the basement this morning and whacked me on the head with something. When I woke up, Heather gleefully explained her evil plans and that's when I realized that Gage was in the basement, too. She'd shot him earlier, or at least, one of them shot him. He was still alive, but just barely.

"By the time Daryl showed up, Gage was already gone, had been for a while. Heather and Jimmy caught Daryl in the act of trying to get me out of there, I guess they'd been waiting for him." Mia paused and gasped in a sharp breath when the not so soft mate-rial of the washcloth scrapped across the wound. Muttering a colorful string of whis-pered curse words, she pushed aside the desire to puke or faint, maybe both, and con-tinued with the story. "Anyway, Daryl declined Heather's generous offer to join forces with them and attacked her. I jumped on Heather's back and pulled her off Daryl, which was when Jimmy decided to stop standing around with his thumb up his ass and fired a shot. I can only assume he meant to hit me, but I got lucky and Heather was the one that ended up with a bullet in the back. Daryl took that chance to shoot Jimmy and the rest, they say, is history. Although, I don't remember falling on anything during the fight, so I'm not sure how I got hurt."

"You were shot, sweetie. Adrenaline kept you from feeling until now," Mae stated mat-ter-of-factly as she continued to clean the wound. Eyes glued to the still bleeding gash on Mia's side, she never looked up as she inspected the gash with medical precision. "If Jimmy only fired one shot, then it went through Heather and hit you. If he fired twice, then the second shot wasn't a very good one, because you're still alive. It looks like the bullet went straight through and judging by the location, I don't believe anything major has been hit, but it's a pretty nasty gash that needs to be stitched up." Standing up, Mae tossed the now bloody rag into the sink, where it landed with a plop and started for the door. "I'll be right back, my kit is packed downstairs."

"No! Don't do that," Mia protested, grabbing hold of the back of Mae's shirt to stop her from leaving the bathroom. "It'll be fine. We just need to put some pressure on it, right? That's what you always say for cuts that won't stop bleeding."

"It needs to be stitched, stop being silly," Mae replied sternly, in the tone of voice that normally would cause Mia to obey immediately, but this time the command fell on deaf ears.

"I'm not being silly, Mae. If you go down those stairs and tell Daryl I'm injured our chance to get out of here is gone. We aren't going to get another distraction like a house fire, not unless we resort to arson again," Mia pointed out with a pleading tone that matched the expression in her hazel eyes. "We can't wait any longer, Mae. We don't know who else is involved in Heather's plan. The longer we stick around, the more danger we put those kids in.

"Just bandage it as best as you can up here, with whatever you can find, for now. Please?" Mia begged, her heart thumping loudly against her breastbone and blood pulsated and hummed with nervous energy. "I promise that the second we get some-where safe I will let you do whatever you want to it. Heck, rip it back open just to stitch it closed again, but just wait until we are somewhere safe. That's all I ask, well, and to not tell Daryl just yet."

"He's going to notice if you're in pain," Mae pointed out with a resigned sigh but carried on before Mia could reply. "But, I'll keep my mouth shut for now. But, the moment we stop to rest, you're letting me put a proper bandage on it."

"Cross my heart and hope to...," Mia started to say but was cut off sharply by Mae.

"Don't even say it, Mia. Not even in jest, not with things the way they are now," Mae in-terjected sternly, shaking her head as turned back towards the door. "Get out of the rest of those clothes and clean up as best as you can. I'm going to raid the older girl’s room and see what I can find for you to wear."

A short while later, scrubbed as clean as possible with rainwater and a pile of wash-cloths, Mia laced her boots back up and stood up from the toilet seat with a wince of pain. Her hand hovered shakily over the makeshift bandage that Mae had thrown to-gether, which basically consisted of one wide gauze bandage they had located in the back of a cabinet, with a hand towel folded over it and secured with a belt that was notched tightly at Mia's waist beneath the borrowed shirt Mae had located for her. It was bulky and uncomfortable, but at least for the time being her wound was dealt with, Mia just hoped that Daryl didn't look too closely at her during the first leg of their trip.

Following Mae down the stairs, they reached the foyer landing just as Daryl settled the straps of his backpack over his shoulders and glanced up. Mia's breath hitched in her chest as she waited for him to notice either her pained expression or the bulkiness of the bandage beneath the dark green shirt Mae had pilfered for her, but thankfully he had other things on his mind that caused him to overlook her current situation.  
“We best get the show on the road. Need to get out of here before sun up. Ain't got much longer,” Daryl ordered, all business and little else at the moment, which Mia ap-preciated since he was not paying close attention to her demeanor.

Remembering the keys she had found in her bloody pants pocket, Mia dug around in the too tight ones that had to belong to Keisha and her rail-thin frame, pulled them out and thrust them towards Daryl. “Here, Gage said to use them. Go out the back, instead of out front. We can run straight to the woods from the back porch."

“Better idea than what I had,” Daryl replied, dangling the keys in front of his face to in-spect them closer, before glancing right past Mia so that he could talk to Mae like Mia was not even in the room...again. “She okay?”

“I'm standing right here,” Mia pointed out sourly, not bothering to hide her displeasure at being discussed like she was not even in the vicinity of the area, but did not bother to press the issue further since there were more pressing things to deal with at the moment.

“She's fine enough for now,” Mae answered after a moment of silence in which she earned herself an intense case of side eye from Mia, who subsequently rolled her eyes in annoyance at the situation. “She needs food and rest though.”

"As soon as we can stop," Daryl promised, before starting towards the kitchen with the keys dangling in his right hand. Once at the back door, he meticulously went through several keys before finding the one that slid into place and opened the old lock with a snick and pulled open the door with a creaky that belonged in a house of horrors. Glancing back at the nervous, yet eager group of people standing behind him, he said, "Let's get on with it then."

"Where do we go?" Keisha piped up and asked worriedly, glancing out into the dark-ness over Daryl's shoulder. "We've never been out there, what if someone's waiting for us?"

"Everyone just wait in the kitchen, but be ready to go when I whistle. I'm gonna clear the area and see what we're working with," Daryl ordered with a glance over his shoul-der at the group, before stepping cautiously out onto the back porch with his crossbow aimed high.

Mia's heart was in her throat as she waited anxiously at the rear of the group and the sudden sound of someone jiggling the knob of the front door did nothing to improve her serious case of nerves. Glancing sharply at Mae and then at Blake, they silently communicated in the dimly lit room before she inched towards the foyer once more. Dizzy from the intensely stressful situation, her hand shook as she reached out to open the door a fraction of an inch, just enough to peer out and see who was on the porch. However, all though she had placed her boot just behind the door in a failed at-tempt at keeping the person from pushing their way into the house, the man on the porch did just that and caused her to stumble backward.

"What are you doing here?" Hank asked sharply as he stepped fully into the foyer and glared at Mia with a questioning gaze.

The daytime guard of the front gate was not an overwhelmingly large man, but the De-sert Eagle semi-automatic in his right hand certainly was and Mia had to push down the ball of nerves that choked her words, before replying as calmly as possible, "I couldn't sleep, so I came by to check on the girls when I saw the fire. What's going on down there? What happened? Is Gage okay?"

Uncertain of her honesty, for which she could not blame him since she was lying through her teeth, Hank glanced from side to side in an attempt to check out the adjoin-ing rooms without actually going into them, which was good since one step into the liv-ing room and he would see a gaggle of kids and a couple of adults trying to make a break for it. Cutting his green eyes back to her, he eyeballed her with suspicion and asked, "Where's everyone else? You the only one down here?"

And, because she had heard stories about Hank's questionable behavior in the bed-room from Gage's concubines, Mia couldn't control the revulsion on her face at the im-plications of his question. Which, of course, he picked up on and added to the ick fac-tor with a lecherous grin. As slowly as she possibly could move, Mia's hand inched to-wards the pistol that was tucked into the small of her back, instead of the holster she typically wore on her right side, since the wound on her side would rub against the hard plastic if she wore it where she normally did. "I'm the only one down here, yeah, but not the only one in the house."

"Your guard dog around? He ain't at your house, so he's gotta be here, right?" Hank asked as he took a step towards Mia, closing the scant distance between them in the narrow foyer.

"He's around, you know Gage's makes Daryl stay around me," Mia answered shakily, nearly weeping with joy as her hand closed around the grip of the pistol. "I'm sure he'll be in here in a minute."

"Or he burned up in the house with Gage," Hank replied with a snarl, his free hand darting out to grab hold of Mia's throat before he pushed her into the wall at her back, effectively trapping her hand and gun at the small of her back. "Yeah, that's right, don't need to play innocent, Mia. Several of the guys are dead, dropped in their tracks be-tween Mae's house and Gage's, right before the house went up in flames. Did he make it back after he killed Gage for you, you fucking bitch?"

"For me? I didn't tell anyone to-" Mia started, trying to explain the situation in a manner that would end with her still being alive and, hopefully, not raped, but a loud thwack sounded out a split second before Hank's eyes widened in surprise and then rolled back into his head as he crumbled to the floor.

"He...he was going to hurt you," Blake stammered, his voice an octave higher than normal as shock started to settle in. A baseball bat was clutched tightly in his hands as he stared down at Hank's prone body lying on the slate gray tile at their feet. "What do we do with him?"

"We kill him," Mia replied matter-of-factly as she stepped away from the wall towards Blake. "Not only is he a fucking creep, but I'm pretty sure he was working with Heather and Jimmy, they were all close anyway, best to be certain that he doesn't go back and talk to the lady that was in charge of the whole shit-show."

"I...um, I don't think...I," Blake rambled on, no doubt scared shitless as the young man didn't have a penchant for violence and only resorted to it to protect the ones that he loved.

"Give me the bat, Blake," Mia ordered softly as she took it from his trembling hands. Best to take care of the matter with the baseball bat, instead of a gun that would draw more unwanted attention their way. "I'll do it."

"But, you don't have to," Blake half-assed protested as he tried to keep Mia from taking the bat from him. "I'm a man, I can do it."

"What's between your legs has nothing to do with it, Blake," Mia pointed out as she fi-nally wrangled the piece of sporting equipment away from him. Laying a hand on his arm, she explained, "You keep your innocence, okay? It's a lost quality these days. Now, lock that door again and go check on things in the kitchen while I deal with this."

The look on his face showed that he thought about arguing with her once more, but after a moment's hesitation, Blake nodded his head in agreement and followed Mia's orders. As soon as he was out of sight, Mia kicked Hank's gun away from his body in hopes that it wouldn't end up splattered with blood and brain matter, before raising the baseball bat over her head and bringing it down on his head. The sound the strike made sounded like a pumpkin being tossed onto pavement, something she and the guys had done with old Jack-O-Lanterns after Halloween one year. Thick and soupy with an almost hollow sound as it burst open beneath repeated thwacks of a bat.

After several good hits, more so to get out residual anger than necessary to kill, Mia dropped the bloody bat to the floor and bent over with a grimace to grab hold of Hank's gun and then groaned in pain when she stood back up. Her hand pressed against the makeshift bandage, which had no doubt failed under the strenuous batting practice she had just partaken in, but there was no time to further inspect the damage. Instead, she stamped down the flush of pain and headed back to the kitchen, to where only Mae and Blake hovered by the door.

"Daryl's been taking small groups to the wood line," Mae explained, "We're the last, are you okay to leave?"

"I'm okay," Mia said distractedly as she pulled out her trusty 9mm pistol. Handing over her smaller gun to Blake, she shoved the Desert Eagle into her waistband at the small of her back and motioned for the two of them to head outside. Closing the door behind her, they waited on the back porch for Daryl to return and prayed that the rest of their escape would go off without a hitch.

Daryl emerged from the wood line, the moon offering up enough light to make out his predatory form as he stalked across the opening like a lethal animal, full of deadly seri-ousness as he made his way back to them. Pausing at the bottom of the stairs, he glanced up at her beneath a swatch of dark bangs and asked, "You good to go?"

"I'm good," Mia replied wholeheartedly as she descended the stairs to stand next to him. Despite the shit she had been through over the past few years, especially the tense moments of the past few months with Gage, she smiled, because somehow it was all finally coming to an end, her hard work and prayers were being answered. "Let's go. I am beyond ready to be out of this fucking place."

"After you then," Daryl replied with a crooked, half-ass grin and Mia felt something twinge inside of her at the sight.

Because maybe she wasn't just ready to get out of this place, maybe she was ready to move on in other areas of her life, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the reviews on the last chapter! I truly appreciate them. Hope everyone has a Happy Walking Dead Day! I sadly do not get to watch until it re-airs Friday night, since I have a trainee at work and can't watch. Sigh.


	51. Chapter 51

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay. I went out of town to visit family and ended up with a cold by the time I got home and just couldn't muster up the energy to finish the chapter.

_“Breathe your life into me,_  
I can feel you.  
I’m falling, falling faster.  
Breathe your life into me,  
I still need you.  
Breathe your life into me.” 

__

_Red “Pieces”_

Sweat trickled down Daryl's back, slipping out from beneath the thick swatch of damp hair that clung to the curve of his neck to slide down his spine and settle uncomfortably at the base of his spine. The storm that had passed through the night before last had at least knocked down the humidity level a few degrees, but the heat was still present, thanks to the shining ball of fire floating directly above their heads as they trudged down the highway towards Georgia. Of course, the black top pavement of Highway 278 only intensified the heat, and the scattering of discarded leaves and other debris that had not been cleared by traffic in well over six years offered up no assistance in keeping the blacktop from radiating the heat from the sun back onto their bodies.

Daryl's original plan had been to stick to the cover of the trees for the majority of the hundred mile or so distance, but thanks to the storm that had graciously knocked down the humidity, the ground in the woods was too damp and covered in mud to brave the hike with as many children as he had in his care. So, after much grumbling and arguing with himself, Daryl had opted to stick to the side roads and navigated the group towards the main highway to head towards Atlanta. Upside, no mud holes. Downside, wide open spaces were dangerous terrains in themselves. Luckily, with the exception of a handful of withering corpses that posed no threat as they were trapped in cars or missing the required limbs to chase after prey, they had yet to stumble across anything or anyone that might be a danger to their safety.

Their pace was slow and growing more snail-like with each passing step. The younger kids were exhausted and the older kids were getting that way, so Daryl knew that he needed to consult a map soon and figure out a place to lay their weary heads for the night, but damn if he hated quitting in the middle of the day when there was still plenty of light to lead the way. Unfortunately, fate stepped in and made the decision to stop for him, in the form of a breathless Lucy, who appeared beside him at the front of the pack.

“Daryl? Um, I think maybe you need to check on Mia,” Lucy informed him with a concerned edge to her softly spoken words. Her brow furrowed between her eyes as she stared up at him with worry etched over her features. “She doesn't look like she's feeling good.”

Holding up his hand in a closed fist, the signal he had went over with the group that let them know he was stopping, Daryl blinked in response to Lucy and glanced towards the back of the pack where Mia and Mae were pulling up the end. Sure enough, Mia not only looked like a pale wisp of a ghost, but she and Mae had dropped back significantly further than the last time he had looked back to check on them.

Catching Blake's eye, Daryl barked out an order for him to move the rest of the group towards the shade on the edge of the roadway and headed towards Mia at a pace only slightly slower than a sprint. By the time he reached them, as they had fallen back a solid fifty yards behind, Mia was barely able to stand on her own as she swayed from side to side and pathetically argued with Mae, who seemed to be attempting to get Mia to sit down.

“What's wrong?” Daryl called out a few yards away from them, instinctively performing a visual search of the immediate area before dropping his guard to check on Mia.

“Nothing. I'm fine. Keep going,” Mia replied weakly, her words barely spoken between shaky gasps for air. Her eyes were closed as she spoke and her thick, dark eyelashes contrasted heavily against the pallid color of her skin. Perspiration clung to her skin, glistening above her top lip, and plastered her hair to her head and neck, even more so than it should have due to the heat. Dark circles shadowed the area below her closed eyes, far more bruised than simple exhaustion should have caused.

“Bullshit,” Daryl barked out sharply as he shoved his arm through the strap of his crossbow to situate the weapon across his back to make it easier to inspect Mia. She swayed once more, the movements seemingly more jerky and unbalanced than they had been only moments before, and Daryl had but half a second to reach out and grab hold of her before she collapsed to the ground. Cursing, he followed the movement until they were both on the ground safely, and glanced up at Mae. “What's wrong with her?”

“Blood loss, I assume,” Mae replied grimly as she squatted down beside them on the ground. The older woman brushed a lock of sweat dampened hair out of Mia's face before explaining further. “She begged me not to tell you, for the kid's sake. So we could escape, you see. She was afraid that you'd postpone the plan if you knew she was injured in that basement.”

“All this is from a bump to the head?” Daryl asked, genuinely confused, as he had seen the goose egg and laceration on the back of Mia's head, but as it had quit bleeding long before he had rescued her, he had assumed that the injury was on the trivial side.

“No, she was shot,” Mae said with a shake of her head. She leaned forward and gingerly pulled up the hem of Mia's shirt to reveal the makeshift bandage they had fashioned in the bathroom. With an amazingly calm set of hands, thus proving once more how cool she was under pressure, Mae peeled away the first layer of bandaging to reveal a blood soaked washcloth that caused Daryl to spew out a heated litany of profanity that only intensified as Mae delicately pulled away the well-worn bath cloth to expose the gruesome looking wound beneath. “Not quite a graze, but not quite a full on shot. I assume from what Mia told me about the fight that the bullet struck Heather in the back and it continued on to tear through Mia. Luckily, the angle allowed it to miss any major organs and went all the way through. Nine millimeter, yes?”

“Yeah. A Glock,” Daryl replied without even realizing he had spoken. Looking at the wound, he could see that Mae was right in her assessment. The bullet had entered Mia's back above the right kidney and from there moved at a slight angle to come out on the other side, making the injury look less like a bullet wound and more like something a sword would cause, if it just sliced deeply along a person's side. A flesh wound, really, under normal circumstances, but after being bonked on the head, held hostage, little to no food or water, utter exhaustion and lacking proper treatment? Yeah, the injury was classified in a slightly higher category than just a flesh wound. Hell, the blood loss alone was enough to cause worry, much less with all the other factors tacked on.

Daryl scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed. The area they were in on the highway was more rural than usual, but farm land was plentiful in this area of Alabama, so he was fairly confident they could locate a house or barn to hole up in until Mia was well enough to travel, but the looming question was how long it would take to find a place that was suitable. Muttering yet another curse, mostly at himself for not paying attention and realizing that Mia had been injured not six feet away from him, Daryl positioned his arms beneath Mia and glanced over at Mae and said, “Help me get her up.”

“Now what?” Mae asked after they were both standing up once more and Daryl had Mia held tightly in his arms and tucked against his body. “You aren't going to be able to carry her too far. She's not a big girl, but dead weight is heavy no matter who you're carrying.”

That much he knew, as he had experienced it with Beth's dead body as he carried her out of the hospital and with Lily when he had shot her with his arrow and carted her back to the lodge. He figured a few miles was all he could muster, the heat and his own exhaustion and hunger weighing heavily against him. Angling his body towards Mae, he said, “Get the map out of my bag.”

Something he should have done before picking Mia up, but hindsight was often twenty-twenty. He hefted Mia in his arms as Mae dug through his worn out backpack, luckily not having to search to long and hard as he kept the map tucked in one of the front pockets. Once she had it out and the bag zipped back up, he nodded towards the woods to where the kids and Blake were waiting anxiously and said, “We'll rest in the shade and figure out where we're going.”

“I hope something is close, those kids look like they're about to drop any moment. They're exhausted and hungry,” Mae said as she fell into step beside him. She cut a glance towards him and said, “Of course, we all are.”

Saying nothing, Daryl marched towards the shade and gingerly made his way through the overgrown shoulder of the highway until he was at the tree line with the others. The ground in this location was drier than it had been back at the compound, as though the storm had been less intense in this area, and for that, Daryl was grateful. No mud or murk meant he could lay Mia down directly onto the ground, which would leave his hands free to look at the map, instead of relying on someone else to do so. Settling Mia on the ground, Daryl took the outstretched offering from Blake and folded up the long sleeved shirt the young man had pulled from his backpack and situated it beneath Mia's head. Once he was fairly certain she was as comfortable as one could be while lying on the side of a desolate highway, Daryl held out his hand to Mae and asked for the map.

“What's wrong with her?” Lucy asked as she crawled over to investigate. The gap in between her two front teeth caused a slight whistle with certain words, a trait that would have no doubt caused some asshole to bully her in childhood, but would have been endearingly cute to the right boy as she grew up. As the world was now, very few paid attention or even mentioned it.

“She's hurt,” Daryl pointed out the painfully obvious without batting an eye in the direction of Lucy, who responded in the appropriate response of a sigh and a very adolescent eye roll. Thankfully, Mae stepped in and explained the situation while Daryl poured over the local area in hopes of finding a route to take to hopefully find a safe place to rest and recuperate.

After a few minutes, Daryl laid the map down on the ground before him and pointed to a section slightly southeast of where they were currently located, maybe a three mile trip baring any obstacles. It would be a long trek with Mia unconscious in his arms, but when the only other option was sleeping in the open with a bunch of kids, he would opt for the hike any day of the week.

“We head here. Might be able to find something over that way.” Daryl glanced around the weary group, taking note of the younger kids who looked as though they were about to topple over and the older kids who appeared to be a half step behind them. Internally sighing, Daryl pushed aside his annoyance at having to consider the needs of such a large group of people, and added, “We eat first. Rest a bit. Then go.”

Folding the map in a way that allowed the current highway to be on the outside and thus, easier to read without unfolding the entire thing, Daryl carefully slid it into the side pocket of his pack and grabbed a container of deer jerky from inside. In theory, Mia and Blake had packed each bag with enough items for the person carrying it to last a week, which would only be around half their journey, but carrying any more would only slow them down. The older kids had more in their bags than the younger ones, but overall the amount evened out when shared between the entire group of children. It would not be long before Daryl was forced to leave the group by themselves while he headed out into the woods to scare up meals, which was something he was actually looking forward to. It had been a long time since he had been able to be completely alone, just himself, his bow and nature, and damned if he did not miss it.

Shoving a piece of meat into his mouth, Daryl chewed openly and loudly, and turned his attention to Mae, who was inspecting Mia's wound. “How's it look?”

Mae pushed a lock of gray hair out of her eyes, shoving the length of bangs that were long overdue for a trim behind her ear, and tenderly poked at the gash on Mia's side. “It doesn't appear to be infected. I believe I cleaned it out well enough back at the house, but it wouldn't hurt to treat it just in case. I hate to use the ointment, but that is what it's there for.” Mae paused long enough to dig through her own pack, one weighted down with more first aid items than that of the others in the group, and produced a tube of antibiotic ointment. Then she grabbed a bottle of rubbing alcohol and dipped her finger into the bottle to clean it off before touching the wound. After disinfecting her fingertip, Mae dabbed a dollop of ointment onto the tip of her finger and gently started to apply it to Mia's bloody wound.

“Using it's better than the alternative,” Daryl pointed out, in reference to Mae's displeasure in using the supplies. “We got more back at the lodge.” Or, at least, they had the last time he was there, but surely those items would still be stored away in the doctor's supply closet. First aid items were the number one items on the lists for any scavenger, along with ammunition or any other type of self-defense items. Food used to be the most important, but after this many years, the gardens were plentiful and hunting was a skill that most every man at the lodge had learned.

“We still don't know where we're going,” Mae pointed out as she capped the ointment and put it back into its proper storage location. Grabbing a square of gauze and bandage tape from the bag, she said, “I understand why you wouldn't tell us when before we left, being that you weren't sure who you could trust to not tell Heather and Jimmy, but we're on the road now. Who are we going to tell?”

The lady had a point, Daryl mused. Swallowing his second hunk of deer jerky, he closed off the container and shoved it back into his pack before answering Mae's question. “Lake Lanier, just past Atlanta.” The thought of walking that far at their current pace was daunting, but it was not like they could steal a car and drive there. Gasoline had long since expired, breaking down to become less effective the longer it sat in tanks or stored in containers. Most people did not know that gasoline had an expiration date. Sure, if it was stored properly, with a fuel stabilizer, it could last longer, but overall, you were looking at less than a year for it to be effective.

“I know the place well,” Mae replied with a soft smile and a twinkle to her eye as she finished taping the new bandage in place on Mia's side. “My husband, Frank, and I spent a long weekend there for our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. It's a lovely place. Although, I doubt it looks the same since the outbreak.”

“Pool ain't what it used to be, I guess,” Daryl replied with a half-smile as an image of the murky green, leaf ridden pool popped into his mind. Good place for catching frogs though, according to Carl back in the early days of living there. However, the shaggy haired son of his best friend had grown up enough that catching frogs and playing in the dirt no longer held the same appeal as hunting and chasing the teenage girls at the lodge.

“Mia only told me a fraction of what you've been up to, what lead you to our community, but I want you to know how much I respect you for putting your own life at risk for the safety of others. Very few people would do that, especially this day in age.” Mae met Daryl's eyes for a half a second before he cut his glance towards the ground, uncomfortable at the change in topic.

“Yeah, well, someone's gotta do it, I guess,” Daryl mumbled in response, continuing to not meet Mae's inquisitive stare. Talking about the rescue missions typically only led to questions as to why he put his neck on the line for strangers and that was a topic of discussion he had no desire to delve into, so he quickly changed the subject back to Mia. “How long you think she'll be out?”

“I can't answer that. Blood loss, head trauma, exhaustion, all three factors are in play here. Her body needs rest to heal and that takes time.” Mae patted the bandage once more to ensure the tape was firmly in place and lowered Mia's shirt back in to place. “It's up to Mia at this point, but she's a fighter. Always has been, so I have faith that she'll wake up soon.”

Not soon enough to walk to the next destination on her own two feet though, Daryl thought grimly. But, the sooner they got back on the road, the sooner they could find a place to bunk for the night, or for however long it took Mia to wake up and regain enough strength to continue on. Daryl stood up, leaving his crossbow and backpack on the ground, figuring it would be easier for someone to put those on his back once he had Mia in his arms, and shuffled over to pick her up off the ground.

“Blake, you're gonna have to bring up the rear. Keep an eye out back there,” Daryl barked out the order as he squatted down to pull Mia into his arms after slipping his pack and bow over his back, tightly holding her against his chest before pushing back into a standing position. Hefting her weight once more to settle her in a more comfortable position, he asked Mae to help situate his bag and crossbow more comfortably onto his back, and then said, “Blake in rear, Mae in middle. I'll take point since I know where we're going. Keep your eyes and ears open, I ain't gonna be able to grab my bow quick enough if we get surprised.”

Glancing around the worn out group, Daryl headed back out onto the debris littered blacktop of the highway and headed east towards their next destination, praying the whole time that nothing came between them and a safe place to rest for the night.


	52. Chapter 52

_I fade to black as I search for the light  
Can you bring me back from this unconscious life?  
Can you show me the way, I'm lost in the dark?  
I've fallen apart, can you unbreak my heart?_

_So I can breathe,  
Before I suffocate.  
Before it's all too late, before I die this way.  
I need to breathe, before I slip away.  
But there's something left to say,  
Can you help me?  
I need to breathe._

__

Through Fire “Breathe”

Darkness met her groggy gaze, disorienting Mia even more than she already was. For a fleeting moment she thought she had gone blind when she was met with nothing but the inky black surroundings, but after a few seconds her eyes adjusted to the scant amount of low light in the room and she realized that she was not sans sight, just sufficient lighting. Glancing around the room, she used what little light she had to scope out her surroundings and felt her momentarily panic over not being able to see shift into confusion over where she was. A quick trip down memory lane provided no useful clues as to what her location was, as she could not remember anything after being confronted by Daryl about her well-being and ability to keep walking.  
Giving up on trying to remember what happened out on the road, Mia laid her head back down and closed her eyes again. Her head felt like a stampede of buffalo had trampled over it, her mouth was as dry as the dessert in the middle of the summer and her side felt as though someone had punctured it with a flaming javelin. All in all? She felt as though she was halfway to her death bed and would almost welcome it, were it not for the children she had sworn an oath to protect.

She needed to muster up the energy to get out of whatever bed her body had found its way into and get back on the road, but the darkness outside and the pain radiating through her body persuaded Mia to succumb to it and Mia felt the velvety seduction of unconsciousness overcome her once more. By the time she woke up, the sun was streaming through the gauzy, age stained curtains to literally shed light on her surroundings. With a groan of pain, Mia pushed herself up off the bed with the intentions of getting the show back on the road, so to speak, but doing so caused her head to swim and her vision to lose focus as her lack of nutrition caught up with her. Her stomach fought a war with the pain in her body, momentarily bouncing back and forth between nausea and hunger and a wave of dizziness kept her from going any further than the side of the bed.

Cursing, Mia waited for the dizziness to subside and attempted to stand up once more, succeeding in only doing so for a solid thirty seconds before she nearly toppled over onto the bed. Clutching her side, she laid on her back and stared up at the ceiling and chastised herself for being so damned weak that she could not even get out of bed. For God's sake, she had once swam a four hundred meter relay with a cracked rib and now she could not even crawl out of a damned bed? Lifting the hem of her blood stained shirt, Mia gingerly peeled away the bandage that covered the wound that was causing the bulk of her pain and let loose a string of colorful curse words at the sight of the red ringed, angry gash.

“I see your mouth hasn't suffered from your injuries,” Mae said drolly as she stepped into the room right as Mia elicited several very unladylike descriptors. “Although, I'm more than happy to listen to your potty mouth, since that means you're awake. I'd ask how you're feeling, but I think I already know.”

“How long have I been out?” Mia asked as she patted the bandage back into place, wincing as she touched the overly sensitive area. She tugged her tank top back into place and managed to pull herself up into a seated position, leaning back against the headboard for support.

“Overnight,” Mae replied as she took a seat in the arm chair next to the bed. Seeing the grimace on Mia's face, she added, “Don't beat yourself up over it. We would have stopped at dark anyway, we just lost a couple hours is all. Nothing we can't make up when we get back on the road.”

“Which will be after breakfast. We don't have the time to waste,” Mia informed Mae, earning herself a quick glance that clearly stated that they were not getting back on the road anytime soon, much less that morning. “We're too close to them still, Mae. We didn't make it far enough before stopping for the night, we're too easy to find.”

“It's a risk we will have to take. You're injured and need to rest,” Mae said in that voice that said not to argue with her, before she stood up and motioned for Mia to raise up her shirt. “I need to check the wound, it was too red for my liking yesterday. I'm afraid infection might be trying to set in. Then we need to get you fed and cleaned up.”

Mia wanted to argue, the words to do so were already on the tip of her tongue, but damned if she could make herself actually do it. Sighing in defeat, Mia stripped off the dirty, blood stained shirt instead of just lifting the hem and scooted down on the bed so she could lay back to allow Mae to inspect the injury. While Mae poked and prodded at her side, Mia asked through gritted teeth, “How are the kids?”

“They're fine. Worried about you, but otherwise okay now that they got some rest and food.” Mae clucked her tongue as she slid her fingers over the gash and recovered it, patting the bandage down gently. “You need a bath and thorough scrubbing.”

“Yeah, doubt that's going to happen.” Mia scooted back up on the bed and eyeballed her dirty clothes that rivaled the streaks of grime and blood that coated her skin. “What's the water situation around here? If we can spare some I can use a washcloth or something to clean up as best as I can.”

“Daryl's out seeing what he can find. Maybe there's a creek or something nearby, although that would need to be boiled before we can use it to clean the wound or skin around it.” Pushing back from the bed, Mae said, “I'm going to get you some food to eat and then we'll worry about getting you cleaned up. Lie back and rest.”

Grumbling about already having enough sleep, Mia did as she was told and situated herself into a more comfortable position on the gingham patterned comforter. Despite her protests that she was fine and more than ready to get back on the road, Mia was halfway back to sleep when Blake came in with provisions in his hands.

“Oops, sorry to wake you up. Mae said to bring you this,” Blake apologized as he rested a hip on the edge of the bed and placed a small bottle of water on the bedside table. He waited until Mia pulled herself back into a seated position and said, “You want me to find you a shirt?”

“Um, yeah, if you don't mind. The one I had one was on the verge of standing by itself from the amount of dirt and blood caked on it.” Mia reached for the bottle of water and took a sip of it, refraining from guzzling the entire bottle despite how thirsty she was. After pulling on a t-shirt Blake located in one of the drawers of the dresser across the room, one that was decorated with a giant peach and declared Peach Park the best place in the south for ice cream, Mia shoved a piece of granola in her mouth and asked, “You get any rest?”

“Some, after the kids finally dozed off.” Blake perched on the edge of the bed again and leaned over to prop an elbow on the mattress and stare at Mia. “Daryl's pissed by the way. Thought you'd want to be warned. Not that I blame him, though. Pretty stupid move on your part.”

“Got us out of there, didn't it?” Mia pointed out the obvious as she chewed on a hunk of deer jerky. “He has every right to be mad, so do you, but I wouldn't change what I did. A better time to escape wouldn't come for a long time, we had to get out while we could.”

“Yeah, I know, still doesn't mean I'm happy about you not telling us about your injury. It looks nasty as hell, Mae said it's infected. You're not out of the woods with it, just so you know.” Blake fingered one of the patches on the comforter, a handmade item that was no doubt made out of love, and changed the subject. “Found out where we're going. One of the lodges out on Lake Lanier, over past Atlanta. Never been there before, but Mae and her husband went a while back and said it was really nice.”

“And big, from what I remember. My parents took us there when we were in high school, maybe freshman year? Just for the weekend, but it's got a lot of space. Plenty of room for all of us, depending on how many people are already there. I think there's even some private cabins, so it's not just the hotel.” Mia paused to take a sip of water before continuing. “You find out anything about the people already living there?”

“Nah, you know how tight lipped Daryl is. Said his original group is there, plus some they've picked up over the years. Last he remembered there was about seventy people, but he's been gone for a while.” Blake shifted to lay down completely on the bed, resting his head on his folded arms. “He ever tell you why he left? Seems like a pretty sweet setup, not sure why someone would choose to walk away from it.”

“Like you said, tight lipped, right?” Mia tucked the last piece of jerky into her mouth and sat the plate on the table before laying down next to Blake, as they had done many times before when one or the other could not go to sleep. “What I can't figure out is why he leaves if he's got someone there. I mean, he didn't come right out and say he did, but when I asked if he had a girlfriend or a wife back home he didn't correct me.”

Blake opened his mouth to speak, but the sound of the bedroom door being pushed open roughly cut their gossip session short. Glancing up to see who had come into the room, Mia found a very unhappy Daryl standing in the doorway. She started to break the tension, crack a joke about being awake or some other nonsense in hopes of wiping away the displeased look on his face, but there was something about his demeanor that had her snapping her mouth shut without saying anything at all. Even Blake sensed the temperamental aura swirling around him, as he slid off the bed and scurried from the room without being told to do so; shooting her an apologetic look before darting down the hallway to safety.

Daryl shut the door, not quite slamming it but doing so with enough force that it caused a sharp crack when it closed. He stormed forward to the end of the bed and stood there, staring at her with anger radiating from his eyes, and crossed his arms over his chest. His hair was disheveled, greasy from sweat and not being washed in days, and hung limply into his rage filled eyes. A blood crusted on his jawline, smeared as though he had tried to wipe it off and failed, and seeing as there was no injury there, Mia could only surmise that the crimson stain was due to her own injury. The same red hue stained his faded gray button up and blended in nicely with the dirt and sweat marks to make a gruesome picture. Mia felt a flicker of guilt at the trouble she had caused and grimaced as she stared up at Daryl. For one tense moment, they simply stared at one another before he finally spoke. “You ever pull shit like that again and I'll let the goddamned infection kill you.”

“Okay, that's a bit harsh,” Mia replied, her voice shaky and softly spoken as she could not quite find the rage inside of her to stand up to Daryl. Averting her eyes from his intense glare, she said, “You know why I did it. I wouldn't change what I did.”

“It's that stupid shit that gets you dead,” Daryl ground out. The muscles in his jaw flexed and tensed with each word as his teeth ground gnashed together in anger. “We could've figured it out. Better than putting everyone at risk by keeping it secret. Hell, you passed out in the middle of the goddamned road, Mia. Left us wide open, on the side of the road like sitting damned ducks while I figured out what to do. Had to change the whole shit plan to figure out a shittier one, all because you didn't tell me he hurt you.”

“I'm sorry, okay. I didn't mean for that to happen.” Mia apologized, sincerity shinning in her eyes and evident in her words as she pushed back into a sitting position. Deliberately biting back the groan of pain on the tip of her tongue, she said, “We can go now. I'm fine.”

“Don't be fucking stupid,” Daryl scoffed, shaking his head at her suggesting. “You've been stupid enough lately, it's time to stop and use your damned head.”

“I'm not stupid,” Mia argued, earning herself a stare that froze her in place with the rage that seeped into her soul and showed her just how unhappy Daryl was with her decision to keep her injury secret. “Jesus, I said I was sorry, Daryl. I can't do much else, I can't go back in time and change it. We're fine. We're safe. Nothing happened. So, we get back on track. I've eaten and got rest, I'll be fine.”

“You're fine? Really?” Daryl asked, deadpanned, as he walked around the edge of the bed to stand next to her. “Stand up then.”

Filled with a mixture of trepidation and curiosity, Mia slowly edged to the side of the bed and stood up next to Daryl. The smell of sweat and musk, dirt and blood assaulted her as he closed the distance between them. Stuck between the bed and him, Mia fought to remain upright as another wave of dizziness washed over her, but she refused to give in to it and prove to Daryl that she was not fit to travel. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the feeling to the side and raised her chin to Daryl. “See? I'm fine. I can stand on my o-”

The sharp stinging pain that seared through her body cut off her words and sucked the breath right out of her as she stumbled backwards. The edge of the mattress caught her fall and Mia sank down onto the bed while holding a hand protectively over the wound that Daryl had just poked and sent a fiery wave of pain rushing through her body. Shaking, she blew out a steadying breath and glared up at him with fire in her eyes.

“What the fuck did you do that for?” Mia asked, her words trembling as she took deep breaths to try and ease the fire in her side and hopefully make the tears in her eyes disappear.

“Said you weren't in no position to go back out there,” Daryl replied, his voice as flat as his glacial stare. Turning away from her discomfort and tears, Daryl stalked back across the room and yanked open the bedroom door. Before he left, he glanced back to her and said, “We ain't going ‘til you're ready.”

Her hopes sank at his words, but not as far as her heart did at the lack of emotion in his eyes. Muttering a curse, Mia gingerly laid back down on the bed and gave way to the tears clinging to the edge of her eyes.


	53. Chapter 53

_“You don’t know the torture.  
You don’t know the pain.  
Loving what you can’t have  
Is driving me insane  
I’m dangerous, I pull away.  
You’re dangerous, keep your distance,  
Still you run through my veins  
And there’s nothing I can do.”_

__

In This Moment “Next Life”

Another storm brewed outside. The wind whipped and whirled and slapped violently against the once white siding on the house, now turned a dreary gray color thanks to the layers of grime and dirt that had built up over the years without a proper pressure washing. Thankfully, most of the house was constructed of brick and sturdier than a solid siding home. Rain pelted against the windows, hitting the glass with enough force to sound like there was hail mixed in with the moisture, which was a possibility, but Daryl did not care enough to poke his head out in the storm to find out. Instead, he lay on the larger of the two couches in the den off the front entrance and stared at the ceiling as the lightening outside crackled and popped and lit the room as it streaked across the sky.

Typically, Daryl was a fan of storms. He loved the ferocity and the unpredictability of them. Loved the wind and rain, the thunder and lightning. But now the storm raging outside only made him feel uneasy, because everything he normally loved about them only made him remember the last storm that had passed through; the storm where Mia had come to him in the darkness and taken what her body had craved. They had fucked like hormone raged bunnies, both hell bent on using the lust and desire burning in their bodies to momentarily shut off their brains and forget about everything that was weighing on their minds and souls.

That night had been a good night. A damn good night that had been followed up with a shitty morning. He had screwed up a moment of light in his darkened life by giving Mia the letter than her brother had written her before he blew his brains out and caused her to run straight into the clutches of a pair of crazed assholes. The only good that had come from that incident was that Daryl had finally come to grips with the feelings he had for Mia, the ones he had not wanted, but had crawled into his heart and latched on like a bloodthirsty tick clinging to the hind quarters of a fat dog. But, just because his heart had finally admitted its feelings for the tattooed temptress, his brain still refused to get on board. His heart and his dick still warred with his conscience, who walled in a pool of guilt for even daring to move on and love someone other than Lily.

And, it was that guilt that allowed him to latch on to the anger he felt over being lied to by Mia about her injuries. It was that self-loathing that Daryl wrapped around himself like a protective cloak to hide just how worried he was about Mia, how his heart had skipped a beat and his stomach had clenched in fear when she had passed out in his arms. When he had seen the bloody gash on her side, damned near in the same spot he had shot Lily with his crossbow so many years before, he had let his anger at her for keeping the truth from him a secret take the reins and push aside the concern for her well-being and the heartache at seeing her injured.

It was a childish, immature response to the situation, but anger and avoidance were what he was used to, what he felt comfortable with, and so he had allowed them to rush in and wrap him in their embrace like a long lost lover, instead of sharing with Mia just how scared he had been seeing her broken and helpless.

Did it make sense? No, absolutely not. But, let's face it, when it came to matters of the heart and the opposite sex, men were rarely known for making the best decisions.

So, instead of being in the master bedroom of the house they had been squatting in for the past two days, Daryl was yet again sleeping on the couch after a long day of hunting, gathering water and thoroughly avoiding Mia. He had to admit, as the days passed by and his anger subsided bit by bit, it was getting harder and harder for him to keep his ass away from Mia.

A bolt of lightning crackled through the sky and Daryl silently ticked off the seconds before a boom of thunder clapped loudly and rattled the windows above his head. Where ever the lightening had struck, it had only been about two or three miles away from the house. Pushing off the couch, admitting defeat when it came to sleeping during a violent storms, Daryl walked across the dust riddled rug to stare out the bay window out into the dark of night. He was surprised no one else had gotten up to wander the house with insomnia, but figured that if they were awake, they opted to stay away from him. Given how cranky he had been the past couple of days, downright growly according to Lucy, he did not blame them for wanting to keep their distance from him.

As another streak of lightening glittered across the sky, the familiar tug of concern pulled at Daryl's heartstrings and had him heading down the darkened hallway towards the master bedroom before his mind had figured out where he was going. The doorway was open, as usual since the hinges creaked and woke Mia up whenever someone went in to check on her, so it was easy enough to poke his head in and see how she was doing. Unfortunately, until the next round of lightening, he could not see a damned thing from the doorway.

Frowning, Daryl tiptoed further into the bedroom to stand near the bed and stare down at Mia as she slept. Fitful as always, or at least, as she had been since Micah's death, she rested on her uninjured side with one arm outstretched towards the empty side of the bed, as though she was in search of someone; her husband or her twin, which Daryl did not know. All Daryl was sure of was that whomever she was searching for in her sleep was not him, not the way he had been treating her lately. And, he was man enough to admit that it probably was not the worst thing to happen, especially for Mia, as she was better off without him. He had proven time and time again that he was untrustworthy and incapable of keeping the women he cared for safe.

He had promised to keep Beth safe and she had ended up being kidnapped and held hostage by a group of power hungry, crazy ass police officers. The he had made a promise to himself to find her and rescue her, only to watch in horror as she was shot in the head not six feet away from him. He might have gotten his vengeance by killing the woman who had killed Beth, but in the end, he had only failed her.

Then, along came Lily, a child he had taken an oath to protect back at the prison, to keep her safe from the Governor, just as he had done with all of the kids at the prison, regardless of their age or how attractive they were. Forbidden fruit, that one, had been from the first day he had laid his eyes on her copper hair and slender figure, but he had sworn to protect her nonetheless. He had failed back then, when she had fallen ill and had been left in the prison to die and to crawl to safety before being eaten by the horde of walkers roaming the grounds. Somehow she had survived, despite his failures.

Finding Lily ages later, so many years that she was no longer recognizable to him, despite the hours his eyes had dedicated to watching her back at the prison, had been the beginning of the end for her. Shooting her in the stomach had been the least of the pains he had inflicted on her over the years. Carrying her to the lodge, feeding and clothing her, falling in love with her, had only been a cushion to the pain that surrounded the poor girl after what she had endured since waking up alone in the prison. Nope, his failures had only intensified as they had grown closer and Daryl had realized that there was nothing he could do to heal the hurt in her heart, or to make her feel safe in his arms.

Watching Lily die by the hands of the madman he had promised would never hurt her again had broken something in Daryl, something he was not sure could ever be fixed. A crack in his heart that no amount of glue could repair. He had tried, that was certain. Murdering the last man in the group who had hurt her had helped. Rescuing Mary from Nate had certainly helped. But, it was the woman sleeping fitfully before him that stitched his heart together enough so that it almost felt healed. Almost.

Fear clutched at him, seized his heart and squeezed painfully. Fear that he was going to lose her like he had lost the others that it would be his ineptitude that lead to their pain and suffering. He had already proven himself untrustworthy by allowing Mia to be taken by Heather and Jimmy, to let her be held captive by them, even if it was not even for one whole day. Any time spent in the clutches of a raving lunatic, much less two of them, was never a walk in the park and by breaking her heart with Micah's letter and letting her leave the house without him that morning, and he had led her directly into Heather and Jimmy's arms. Her injuries, the bump and gash on her head, the ragged wound on her side, those were because of him, because of his failures, because of his inability to keep his promises.

Part of him wanted to crawl into the bed with Mia, pull her close and wrap his arms around her to keep her safe while she slept. But, the other part of him wanted to push her away, to keep her safe from him and his failures. His chest tightened and something hurt inside of him, deep inside of his chest. Was it his heart? Could it hurt like that, at just the mere thought of shoving Mia away from him and letting her live her life without him? Surely if a heart was going to physically hurt it would have been when it was breaking while he held Lily in his arms as she bled out in front of him, right? Or, had his heart finally taken all of the pain it could take and the result was a throbbing pain in the center of his chest, a tightening clutch on his heart like something was trying to squeeze the life right out of him?

Either way, walking away was the best idea for Mia, if not both of them. If something did happen to her that resulted in her death, if he could not save her in time, he did not think he could survive that experience a third time. No, he knew he would not survive it again, to hold the limp, dead body of a woman he loved in his arms and know that he had to face life without them. He could not do it, he was not strong enough. So, Daryl did the only thing he thought he could do at that moment, he spared one last look of longing at the woman he was fairly certain he was in love with, before turning on his heel and leaving the room without Mia ever realizing he had been in there.

The ache in his chest tightened and intensified as he made his way down the darkened hallway once more.

Later that morning after only a few hours of restless sleep, Daryl met the day with a groan of distension. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he shoved his fingers into his dirty hair and pushed the greasy locks backwards. Showering, shaving and all around hygiene had taken a backseat to survival over the past couple of days, which he should be accustomed to, but after spending the past few months in Mia's home with running water and grooming supplies he had fallen out of the habit of being a grungy mess. However, there was not much he could do about it at the moment, so he opted for tugging his dirty locks back into a rubber band he had unearthed from the pit of his backpack the day before and settled for dipping a washcloth from a ransacked linen closet into a bucket of water procured from a nearby creek and scrubbing it over his face.

Daryl rinsed out the washcloth and laid it on the edge of the sink as Mae shuffled into the kitchen from one of the spare rooms downstairs, where she had taken up residence with the two youngest kids and Ollie, who slept on pallets made out of threadbare blankets and cushions from a wicker lounge set on the sun porch. Despite the lack of amenities, Mae somehow managed to look more put together than Daryl, which he chalked up to a good night's sleep, something he had not had in a while.

“Good morning,” Mae said with a far too cheery smile as she started gathering items needed for a meager breakfast. Granola packed back at the compound and a pile of berries Daryl had picked the day before were perfectly fine for someone who was watching their weight, but a group of growing children and one adult that was on the mend needed far more substance than what Mae was putting together. Of course, there would not be more to eat until Daryl grabbed hold of his crossbow and headed out to hunt up something furry.

“I think we should head out soon,” Daryl blurted out. The truth was that the faster they got back on the road, the faster he could get the group back to the lodge, which was large enough to sufficiently avoid a certain person. Glancing over at Mae, he saw her raised eyebrow of concern, and explained, “Mia's doing better. She's had a few days rest and food. Sitting around here for much longer ain't a good idea. We got a long way to go and I'd rather get on with it.”

“I'll check Mia when I take her breakfast,” Mae said as she arranged a few berries on to a plate beside a bowl of granola. “But, I think you're right. She should be well enough to do at least a few hours a day. I'm not sure she's ready for a full day of walking though, nor are the younger kids, but we could at least try for several miles a day. I'm eager to get somewhere more permanent and I know you've got to be ready to get home after all these months.”

Years, Daryl thought to himself, but did not share with Mae as she slid a bowl in front of him. Grimacing at the pile of toasted oats, nuts and dried fruit, he picked at the concoction and ate it without really tasting it. How long had it been since he had been home? Honestly, Daryl could not remember. He had dropped a small group, two kids and a woman he had rescued from a camp down close to Auburn, back at the lodge a while back, but other than the temperature being fairly mild, he could not place the season much less the year. He wondered if his family had given up on him returning home, or if they figured him dead? He did not want to think that they would give up on him, but given the way he had treated them since Lily's death he would not blame them if they had. So long as they gave this group a safe haven, they could boot his ungrateful ass out the front gate for all he cared. It would hurt, but he would just add that pain to the mound of heartache he already suffered through daily.

All that mattered was the safety of the kids, Blake, Mae and Mia at this point.

Shoveling down the last bit of food, a measly portion to say the least, but enough to get him up and moving to hunt down something more substantial, Daryl pushed away from the table and dumped his bowl into the sink. Nodding at Mae, he grabbed the bow by the back door and said, “Gonna go out and get lunch. Maybe we can get a few hours in this afternoon? If Mia's up to it, that is.”

Without waiting for a reply, Daryl stepped out into the rain covered world and headed off the porch in search of supplies. There were still houses in the massive subdivision he could search for canned goods, first aid supplies, or anything else that might make the trek towards Lake Lanier a bit easier. It felt good to have a mission, but it felt better knowing that they were going to get make on the road and head home. Going at it only a few hours a day would make the trip insanely longer, but it was better than being cooped up in a two story, cookie cutter home while trying to keep his distance from Mia. At least on the road he had a good reason for being quiet at the front of the group, for keeping to himself, and the lodge was big enough to avoid her for hours on end.

Because, damn it, he would keep her safe this time, even if that meant keeping his distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately, due to a minor wreck yesterday, working through Wednesday and then going out of town through the weekend for my niece's birthday, there won't be an update next week. Any spare time I had this weekend was taken up dealing with the wreck. I will certainly try to get the chapter finished, but just in case I'm not able to, I wanted to warn you guys.


	54. Chapter 54

_“I’m so tired of being here,  
Suppressed by all my childish fears.  
And if you have to leave,  
I wish that you would just leave.  
‘Cause your presence still lingers here,  
And it won’t leave me alone.”_

__

_Evanessence “My Immortal”_

The faint rays of early morning light slithered through the dusty coated blinds of the bathroom where Mia stood in front of the mirror, whose reflective surface appeared to be in direct competition with the filthy blinds to see who was dirtier. Using a long forgotten washcloth that hung limply on a neighboring hook, she swiped the cloth across the grimy mirror to remove what dirt and dust she could so that she could inspect the wound on her side. Once the mirror was clean enough to be able to see her reflection better, she dropped the washcloth onto the floor and lifted up the hem of her shirt, standing ever so slightly on the tips of her toes to be able to see the gash that slithered a solid six inches or more along her side.

At least a week had passed since the injury occurred and thanks to Mae's obsessive doctoring, it seemed to be healing quite nicely. Not much more than a dark pink, puckered line running from the upper tip of her right hip bone around to her back, not far from her kidney, the resulting scar would be gruesome, but she was at least alive. A scar she could live with, death was something she was not quite ready for.

Mia swiped an alcohol wipe across the halfway healed gash before dabbing on a thin layer of antibiotic ointment, careful not to use too much as their supplies were limited enough before tending to her own wounds. She wished they'd had more time to plan, or rather, more time to use the plan she had formed way back before Daryl had even shown up in town, instead of resorting to a sort of smash and grab style maneuver that left them escaping with only what they could carry on their backs. The original plan had at least involved a couple of the horses from the stable and one of the trailers the scavenging teams used to bring back supplies, but Mia had never quite figured out how they were going to get those items without alerting the entire town. But, they were at least out of the compound and at least halfway to the lodge and for that Mia was thankful.

After carefully applying a thin bandage to the wound, Mia let her dirty t-shirt drop back into place and gathered up what little supplies she had used and zipped them back into the pouch that Mae carried in her backpack. A final glance into the grimy mirror proved to Mia just how disheveled and pathetic she looked, but there was nothing she could do about her appearance at the moment. Water was scarce, despite the rain earlier in the week, and using what little they had to clean up would be nothing short of irresponsible. Plus, everyone else in the group was just as dingy and it was not like she was cuddling up with anyone at night, since Daryl had done nothing but ignore her since the trip had begun.

Seven or maybe eight days had passed since he had agonizingly smacked her wound to prove just how unready she was to get back on the road, leaving her gasping in pain on the bed with tears streaming down her face. Since that morning, he had not uttered a single word to her. Instead, he kept his distance, walking at the front of the pack during the day and holing himself up in a secluded spot in whatever place they crashed at night. With the exception of catching him staring at her beneath thick lashes when he thought no one was paying attention to him, Daryl had done nothing but ignore her very existence since that morning.

At first, she had been upset and a little heartbroken that he was brushing her aside, but now? Now she had surpassed the bruised feelings her heart was suffering and had fallen straight over the edge into a chasm of anger and confusion. She assumed Daryl was just giving her the cold shoulder to put some much needed distance between them after what had transpired between them over the past few months of living together, since they were heading back to his family and whomever she figured was waiting there for him. But, she honestly thought they had formed much more than a sexual relationship with one another, a sort of friendship and mutual understanding, and his silent treatment was proving her wrong about what she thought had grown between them.

Grimacing into the mirror for once again letting her mind wander to what was or was not going on with Daryl, Mia turned and headed out of the bathroom and started back towards the living room to where she had slept fitfully on the brown plaid couch. Carefully dodging the scattered bodies laid out on the blankets, cushions and pillows piled on the floor between the two couches, Mia plucked her backpack off the floor and gingerly tiptoed towards the kitchen to find food. With the stealthiness of burglar, she slipped into the kitchen and quietly eased the glass French doors that separated the two rooms shut behind her. Turning towards the massive farmhouse style table, she laid her pack onto the dusty dark wood and took a step back to head towards the cabinets to start searching them when she backed straight into someone. Biting back a shriek of surprise, she caught a glimpse of Daryl standing behind her with a dark look of annoyance on his face.

“Jesus, you need a bell on your neck,” Mia grumbled, letting her own dark mood slither in and take control as she started opening cabinets in search of any item that could help them on the rest of their trek. They had shown up to the long abandoned house right before dark had taken control and cut off the light of day, which meant scurrying around in the shadows to hunker down for the night after clearing the house, instead of searching for supplies. “You find anything useful outside?”

“No,” Daryl answered, offering up no explanation of what he had been doing or how long he had been out there. Which, of course, infuriated Mia further as he started towards the living room she had just closed off so the kids, Blake and Mae could get a bit more rest before starting their daily trek.

“Don't go in there yet. Let them sleep a bit longer,” Mia ordered from her perch on a stool by the fridge, her voice only slightly above a whisper. When Daryl turned away from the door and stood in place with indecision on his face, before starting towards the back door he had just come in through, as though he could not stand to be in the same room with her, Mia huffed out a breath in disgust and coldly said, “You could help, you know? It's not like being in the same room with me is going to cause you physical pain.”

Without bothering to respond to her, Daryl silently headed towards the opposite side of the kitchen and opened the pantry door. The most obvious place to start searching for supplies meant that the four by four room had already been picked clean of anything desirable, but Daryl did manage to procure a can of mystery substance, as the label had long since fallen off, which he promptly slammed down onto the butcher's block center counter, instantly provoking Mia's ire.

“What in the hell did I do to you? Huh?” Mia asked hotly, keeping her words to a vicious whisper in hopes that the conversation would be kept between the two of them. She climbed off the stool and put her own can, a large dented container of beef broth, onto the counter as well and squared off with Daryl. His silence screamed at her from across the room as his eyes refused to lift up from the filthy wooden counter to meet hers. Instead he stood there, shoulders slumped and dirty hair falling into his face so that he could hide from her questions, her demands to his behavior. All of which infuriated Mia beyond belief.

Gritting her teeth, Mia took a deep breath to calm her desire to lash out at him, to scream out in anger and demand answers. Miraculously, the red haze of anger seeping into her line of vision waned slightly and she was able to proceed with a modicum of control. “Why can't you at least answer my question?”

After what seemed like a million minutes had ticked by, Daryl's whispered response did little to alleviate her anger, but at least he spoke to her. “It's better this way,” he murmured without looking up at her.

“Better for who? For me? You? For...for whomever you have waiting for you?” Mia asked curiously, although she was not sure she truly wanted the answer.

“Just...better, okay? It's better if we don't have nothing to do with each other. Trust me,” Daryl replied after a moment of determined eye contact with the butcher block counter, where his fingers idly pushed at the can of mystery food. His demeanor resembled that of a child who had gotten caught doing something they were not supposed to be doing and had to explain their decision to do so to a parent.

“And you get to make the decision? No one else?” Mia crossed her arms over her chest and felt her heart thumping away like a frightened bird in a cage. Something ached inside of her, tightening her chest in pain at the thought of being pushed aside by Daryl. Sure, he had been ignoring her for days now, but hearing him say that it was better for them to be like strangers to one another was a better option than at least carrying on with a friendship hurt her more than she would have thought it was.

“One of us has to,” Daryl answered, his words sounding choked and forced, as though he did not want to say them, even though what he was saying was his choice, his doing. He lifted his head and for a brief moment, through the dark and tangled mess that was his hair, their eyes met and Mia thought she saw the briefest flicker of pain and regret in his. But, as quick as it was there, it was gone and in its place was an icy coldness that she had not seen staring back at her in a long time.

“What if I don't agree?” Mia challenged him. She was hurt and angered, felt used up and tossed aside as easily as yesterday's newspaper, and damned if that thought did not just make her hurt a little bit more. Sure, she had already assumed he would not be crawling into her bed anymore once they got to the lodge, but she had honestly thought that she would at least have his friendship, his presence in her life, a piece of him nonetheless.

As much as she had fought it in the beginning, Mia had come to rely on Daryl, on his strength and his bravery, on his friendship...a relationship she had obviously imagined if he could so easily brush her aside.

“It ain't up to you,” Daryl replied darkly, his tone as cold as winter in Alaska. “It's better for both of us.”

Tearing his eyes away from hers, Daryl grabbed hold of the can in front of him with one hand and toyed with it briefly before shoving it towards her suddenly. Catching her off guard, Mia dropped her arms from where they were crossed over her chest so that she could catch the can before it fell off onto the floor.

“Clear out the kitchen, I'll get the garage,” he ordered before turning towards the door that evidently lead out into the closed in double car garage. Opening the door, he called out over his shoulder to her without bothering to look back, “Make it quick. We gotta leave soon.”

“You aren't in charge of my life, you know? You don't want to be part of it, that's fine. But you don't get to tell me what I can and can't do,” Mia said, instead of agreeing to his plans for leaving. He never looked back at her, offering her only his back as he paused inside the doorway and held on to the doorknob in silence for a few moments. Daryl shook his head and muttered something undecipherable beneath his breath, before simply stepping down the two stairs into the garage and swinging the door shut behind him.

Clutching the can of mystery substance, Mia fought off the tears that threatened to spill over her lashes. She refused to cry over a man who did not want her, something she had never done and would not sink so low as to start now. Daryl was not in charge of her life and did not make her decisions for her, but damned if she was going to beg for his friendship. If he did not want her then that was something she could learn to live with, because her new life had started the night they had escaped the compound and it was far past time to start truly living again.


	55. Chapter 55

_“You’re the light, in my darkest hour._  
I’ll be fine, with you I can move on.  
This is our eternity.” 

__

In This Moment “He Said Eternity”

The wind howled outside as rain pelted against the window. Summer was fading away to allow autumn to creep in, which meant a fair bit of rain for the southern states to allow the cooler air to press down and take over. Luckily, the storm outside was a weak one, only enough wind and rain to let its presence be known and nothing like the ones they had endured over the past couple of weeks. Despite all the rain lately, the air outside was beginning to feel less thick with humidity and a hell of a lot more bearable during the day time.

Inside though, it was dry and cozy, maybe a little too warm since the temperatures outside had not dropped below the mid-eighties as of yet, but as she thought it was just perfect as she snuggled beneath the thin cotton sheets and relished the feeling of security and comfort that only the nighttime hours brought. During the day they labored and sweated their proverbial asses off, but at night the atmosphere was less stressful, especially when you could relax in the arms of the one that you loved.

Of course, morning was not that far off, which meant that she was going to have to depart the cozy surroundings and tiptoe through the early morning hazy light back to her bedroom, before anyone noticed that she was not where she was supposed to be. Sighing at the thought, Mary Walters wriggled closer to the warm body next to her and burrowed her head beneath the covers to escape the reality of day light that was quickly approaching. Judging by the lack of crowing from Jerry, the overzealous, time challenged rooster that lived just outside the window that typically woke them up a solid hour before sunrise, Mary figured she could spend a bit more time in bed before morning began.

Unfortunately, Jerry the Rooster was not nearly as reliable as he usually was and by the she woke up again, the sun was shining brightly through the slit in the curtains to hit her square in the eyes. Bolting up in the bed, the top sheet clutched tightly in her hand against her bare chest, Mary cursed the worst rooster in the world and frantically shook Carl awake before catapulting herself from the bed. “Wake up,” she ordered in a loud whisper, trying her best to keep her voice down so that anyone outside the bedroom would not hear her. “We overslept!”

“What?” Carl peeked out from beneath a mop of shaggy hair, suffering from his normal case of morning bedhead, and blinked at her in confusion before the amount of light in the room made him realize what was going on. Cursing, he followed suit and threw off the bed covers and hastily pulled on the crumpled jeans laying on the floor next to the bed.

“I don't have breakfast duty today, so maybe no one noticed,” Mary said with a hopeful twinge to her words as she combed her fingers through her knotty locks, in an attempt to make them look somewhat presentable enough until she could get back to her own room a floor above them. “But your dad told you to be at the garden this morning. How late do you think we are?”

“Can't be too much. He'd have come up here by now if I was real late.” Carl tugged on a boot and laced it up, pausing from his spot on the edge of the bed to look up at her with a silly look on his face.

“No, sir,” Mary said immediately, quickly deciphering the expression on his face. They had only recently taken their relationship to the next level after months of teenage infatuation, heavy petting and perpetual blue balls, and true to form for someone Carl's age, he was ready and willing at almost every moment of the day. She tugged on one of his button down shirts and laughed, despite the urgency of the situation. “We do not have time for that this morning.”

“I wasn't asking for it, but I'm sure we could figure something out.” Carl's expression took a lecherous turn as he reached out to grab hold of the waistband of her jeans and tug her closer to him. Mary did not have time to object to the kiss he pulled her into, effectively melting her resistance and any objection she might have towards a morning romp before sneaking out of the room.

From the first time she had met him, dirty and exhausted from the trip with Daryl, Mary had felt drawn to Carl. Butterflies had erupted in the pit of her stomach every time he was in the room, but the presence of his girlfriend, Katie, had often dampened her attraction towards him. But, after ages of suffering from her unrequited crush, Carl had suddenly broken up with Katie, no explanations offered from either of them. It was then that Mary had allowed her crush to blossom into a full blown case of love, but even then she did not make her move on Carl, preferring to suffer in silence, rather than put her heart on the table and have it rejected. Up until that point in time, he had acted like nothing more than a friend with no interest in being anything more, and she was not brave enough to make the first move.

Little did she know, but Carl had felt the same way. Enter a bottle of stolen rye whiskey and a hot, starry night earlier in the summer and their true feelings had been fully discovered. Ever since then they had been inseparable, much to the dismay of his ex-girlfriend, but everyone else important to the both of them seemed to be overjoyed at their budding relationship.

But, they kept exactly how close they were closely guarded, knowing that Rick would not approve. He was a stickler at preaching responsibility to his son and finding out that Carl and Mary were sneaking around at all hours of the night, partaking in decidedly adult behaviors without the precautions that the pre-outbreak world would have offered them....well, suffice to say, Rick Grimes would not be amused. So, they engaged in age appropriate activities during the day, under the watchful eye of Carl's extended family, but at night they managed to sneak away for alone time and had done so quite stealthily until that very moment.

“We really should get downstairs,” Mary managed to say between kisses, panting heavily as Carl's lips moved from her own to trail down the curve of her neck. “Your father is going to find out what we've been up to if we keep this up.”

“I don't care,” Carl said earnestly as he pressed pause on his kisses and looked her in the eye. “We don't have to sneak around like this, you know? We're old enough to do what we want.”

Not that either of them truly knew exactly how old they were, but it was easy enough to figure up an estimated age range. As best as Mary could ascertain, she figured she was at least eighteen by now, if not then she was certainly close enough. And Carl was only a little bit older than her, or so they thought, making him eighteen or maybe even nineteen. Legally they were adults, but in the minds of their parents, definitely not old enough to be making adult decisions. But, then again, she no longer had parents to worry about, but Carl did and she did not want to cause him any issues either.

“You know your dad is going to flip if he finds out we've been having sex though,” Mary pointed out, somehow managing to stay reasonably on topic while Carl's hands slipped beneath her shirt and caressed her rapidly heating skin. She had been shocked to find out that Carl and Katie has not fully rounded all the proverbial bases during the years they were together, but she was also quite pleased that they had not done so, since it meant they got to share that first experience together. “He already gave us the speech about doing things we weren't ready to deal with.”

“My mom and dad got married young, not much older than we are. He can't really say anything about it.” Carl smirked as Mary shivered in his arms, instantly reacting to the feel of his fingers against the curve of her breast as s fingers dipped beneath the elastic of her bra strap. He leaned in and nipped at the curve of her neck, pinching the skin lightly between his teeth before sucking it between his lips, no doubt leaving a mark for everyone to see.

“It was different back then, when your parents were our age. They were like expected to get married out of high school or something.” Mary paused to lick her lips and relish the feel of his hands as they slipped down her back. “They think we're going to be more than they were, you know? Cure the world. Build something better in the place that they destroyed somehow? Jumping each other’s bones every night is not what your dad wants for you.”

Frowning, Carl stared at her in silence before saying, “Yeah, well, it's my life and he's gotta realize he can't live it for me. I can make my own decisions. He's always pushing, always telling me what I can and can't do. I can't stand it.”

“He's your dad. He loves you.” Mary leaned forward to kiss the tip of Carl's adorable nose and pointed out the painfully obvious, “You should be happy to have a dad at all, much less one that loves you that much. He just wants you to be happy and safe.”

Carl's frown of annoyance faded away into one of sadness as he realized his mistake. Mary did not have any family left, her parents killed long ago and her baby sister lost to the unknown. All she had was herself and the people at the lodge who had taken her under their wing, of which she was thankful for, but at the end of the day it would have been nice to have a familiar, loving face of a family member around.

“I'm sorry,” he apologized, brushing away the glittering tear that clung to the edge of Mary's eye as she thought about the family she lost and missed. “I know I should be grateful I still have him and Judith.”

“It's okay, I'm glad you still have family. I...I just miss mine.” Mary sniffled and blinked back the tears she did not want to cry. She had cried plenty since the outbreak started and damned if any of the tears had changed a single thing that had happened, but sometime she could not help it. The sadness built up and the only release was in the form of tears, of which she could usually hold off on until she was alone in her bedroom.

“You have family,” Carl said, brushing away yet another tear that refused to go away. “You have me. I can be your family.”

Mary offered him a watery smile in return, loving how sweet he was being, but also hating the sliver of jealousy in her heart that screamed that it was not the same as having your blood kin in your life. She pushed aside the hateful green monster and simply took in the sight of him before her, the rugged good looks he had grown into over the past couple of years since they had met, but also the more refined, elegant softness to his features that no doubt came from his mother. Of course, Mary had never met Carl's mother, but she could see Lori in the shape of Carl's eyes, the gentle curve of his lips and the sharp angles of his face. But, it was the ranginess in his build and the fierceness in his expressions that were all Rick Grimes.

“I'm serious, Mary. I can be your family,” Carl said intensely, drawing Mary back to the conversation and away from the quiet study of his features. “You don't gotta have blood to be related. We could...we could get married.”

Assuming he was joking, because he had to be, Mary laughed and instantly felt bad at the sight on Carl's face. The rejection and hurt that shown from his eyes let her know that he was not joking with her. Sobering, Mary asked, “Are you serious? We can't...I mean, we're just kids.”

“No were not. I haven't been a kid in a long time and neither have you,” Carl argued and in her heart, Mary knew he was telling the truth, because after the outbreak everything had changed. Kids were forced to grow up long before their time and that truth was evident in the harshness in their eyes. “I love you. You love me. It's simple. Let me be your family.”

Something bubbled up inside Mary and it took her far longer than it should for her to realize that what she was feeling was giddy elation. Giggling, she smiled brightly and nodded her head, adding her voice after, “Yes. A world of yes, be my family.”

Her tears of sadness morphed into tears of happiness as Carl smothered her giggles with his kiss and wrapped her in his love. Thoughts of being late to their daily chores and worries of what others would think flew out the window as they fell into one another, but as usual, fate had other ideas and crawling back into bed to devour one another was not what she had in mind. Instead, a series of hard knocks on the bedroom door broke their kiss and the sound of Eugene's voice fizzled out any lingering desire.

“Carl, your father has requested your presence in the lobby, post haste,” Eugene informed them, his odd speech patterns ever present. “Your lady love is expected to join you, as well.”

“On our way,” Carl called out as they both crawled off the bed and hastily rearranged their clothing. “Be down in a minute.”

“So, do we tell him the news before or after he crawls our asses?” Mary asked, only semi-jokingly as she pulled her long brown hair into a messy bun that perched precariously on the top of her head.

“Might as well be before, right? That way he can yell about it, too.” Carl smiled in spite of things and took hold of her hand to pull her behind him out of the bedroom door.

Hand in hand they hurried down the hallway, giggling like a couple of high schoolers on their way to class, and danced down the stairs towards the lobby. Upon arriving, their laughter quieted as the sight before them came into view. The massive lobby was bustling with bodies, a cacophony of excitement made it difficult to hear what was being said, and they energy in the room could not be contained and infected Carl and Mary, despite not knowing what was going on.

Hurrying down the last set of stairs, they plunged in to the chaos and pushed through the throng of bodies to see what everyone was so excited about. Pushing through a gap between Abe and Tyrese, Mary's gaze landed on Rick's back a half second before her eyes focused on what was causing the commotion. Tears sprang to life once more in her eyes, emotion clumped in her throat and her heart felt as though it might burst from happiness as her gaze landed upon the dirty, road weary, disheveled body of her baby sister.

Screaming with joy, Mary dropped Carl's hand and pitched forward to catch Lucy as her sister darted in her direction. Arms wrapped around one another, the girls collapsed in the middle of the foyer in a bundle of sheer happiness and tears.

“He found you,” Mary whispered over and over again through the onslaught of tears and snot that refused to desist. Holding onto Lucy tightly, she pressed a kiss to her baby sister’s cheek despite the layers of grime that coated her skin. “I'm never letting you go again. Never.”

And just like that, a young woman who had woken up without family suddenly had her baby sister back in her life and a fiancé standing behind her. Despite the shitty world they lived in, somehow miracles could still happen.


	56. Chapter 56

_“There’s a darkness,_  
I can feel it in your touch.  
I should get away, get away,  
I want you too much.” 

__

_New Year’s Day “Angel Eyes”_

Overwhelmed was the only word Mia could come up with to describe her current state of mind as she stood in the sea of unfamiliar faces gathered around them in the massive timber and stone lobby of the Lake Lanier lodge. The youngest of the children, the tow headed siblings that had been the final additions to the group only a few weeks ago, clutched her hands and clung nervously to her legs in search of familiarity and protection, and as Mia held on to them tightly, she wished she had someone to cling to herself. Instead, she griped their tiny hands and surveyed their new surroundings with wide eyes and tried to take in everything that was happening around them.

A rangy, bearded man stood forefront and shushed the masses, amazingly able to do so in spite of the boisterous excitement level and the amount of bodies squeezing into the lobby around their small group. But, a sharp whistle from the man and a loud, firmly spoken command and the crowd quietened to a hushed roar.

Mia watched with curious eyes as the man greeted Daryl with a warm smile, albeit a little on the teary side, by first shaking his hand and then pulling her grungy, disheveled traveling companion into a tight hug. At first she was simply shocked that anyone would willingly pull anyone in their group into an embrace, given their current state of road funk, but her surprise mounted when Daryl eagerly returned the gesture with an equally watery smile. Astonished, Mia watched in sheer amazement as tears streaked down Daryl’s cheeks and cut a path through the dirty layer of grime coating his skin after weeks on the road. So the man who had slithered into her life and heart not only had emotions, but could manage to display them when the right person was on the receiving end.

A handful of other lodge dwellers stepped up and eagerly took their turn in welcoming home their wayward family member, of which he accepted each and every hug and kissed cheek with a flushed expression of embarrassment, but otherwise doled out reciprocation with each gesture. Mia somehow managed to smother a snort of disbelief and soured expression when an attractive older woman with gray hair and teary eyes latched onto Daryl and received an equally enthusiastic response that was more intense than the others he had handed out to the ones before her, leading Mia to rightfully assume that the woman currently in his arms was the mystery spouse or girlfriend that Daryl refused to talk about.

A flame of anger sparked to life inside of Mia's chest at the sight of Daryl and the woman embracing, an emotion she seemingly had no control over when it came to the man in question and hated that she even possessed it. Anger meant there was feelings there when it came to Daryl and damn it, after the way he had treated her the past couple of weeks during their trek she had no desire to feel anything towards him anymore. But, infuriatingly, it was there. Burning a hole through the apathetic shield she had tried her best to put into place after Daryl had informed her that he no longer wanted anything to do with her.

Mia forced herself to tear her eyes away from Daryl and his homecoming and did so without rolling her eyes in the process. Unfortunately, she did not manage to keep the stinging tears of anger from sneaking out of the corner of her eyes, but somehow managed to stealthily wipe them away without anyone seeing. Or, so she thought, because when she squared her shoulders and forced herself to look up again she came eye to eye with the man she assumed was the person in charge at the compound. The lean and rangy man with the salt and pepper beard that had first taken Daryl into his arms upon their entrance. Flushing with embarrassment, Mia wanted to die a little bit inside when a curious spark lit up in the man's glacial blue eyes and for a second she thought he could read her like an open book. Thankfully, their connection was broken by the ear splitting shrill of excitement as a young woman burst through the crowd and headed straight towards Lucy, who was standing between Mia and Daryl.

The exuberant young woman flew across the landing towards Lucy and the messy bun perched precariously on top of her head bobbed with each step, seemingly as excited about the meeting as its owner. As the two girls collapsed into a heap of happy tears on the floor, Mia realized that the stunning young woman currently squeezing Lucy tightly was the big sister who had sent Daryl on his mission to find her baby sister and set the events that followed into motion. Smiling at the realization, Mia choked on the emotion bubbling up inside of her. No longer anger, the sight before her obliterated the rage she had been overcome with and replaced it with overwhelming happiness.

It would never cease to amaze Mia that even in the midst of darkness the light could find a way to shine.

Lost in thought, Mia missed what was being said around her until the gentle touch of Mae's fingers on her arm brought her back to attention. Glancing to her right, Mia asked, “I'm sorry. What did you say?”

“They said breakfast has been over for a while, but it would be no problem to throw something together if we were hungry now,” Mae explained as she brushed a stray lock of gray hair back behind her ear, her ever-present bun had given up and was falling apart quickly. “Or, we can get cleaned up.”

“We have showers outside, it's cold water though. Or, we can get some water heated and set up baths. It's not a problem, but will take a while,” another woman explained as she rubbed one hand over her round, pregnant belly, while she propped her other hand against the curve of her back to support the extra weight on her midsection. 

Overwhelmed, yet again, Mia had no clue what to pick. While they had eaten breakfast at the cabin they had crashed at the night before, it had only consisted of enough calories to get them through until their next meal. But, after two weeks on the road with not a shower in sight, Mia relished the idea of clean skin, hair and clothes. However, in the end, she had to think of the children in her care and Mia had an idea which choice was foremost in their minds...and stomachs.

“Maybe both?” Mia replied with a nervous chuckle. “I'm not hungry, but I figure the kids are. I can wait for lunch, but I would very much appreciate a shower and, if possible, some clean clothes?”

In the end, Mia's plan was the one they went with. Since the kids were all on the verge of starving, as per usual, they went with towards the kitchen with Mae and the older gray haired lady who had managed to untangle herself from Daryl. While Mia and Blake opted for showers and clean clothes first.

“Maggie, if you could show them where the clothes are kept, I need a minute with Mia first,” the bearded man said as he placed a fairly unwelcome hand on Mia's elbow and proceeded to steer her towards him. “It won't take long, just a few questions. Standard procedure here.”

Mia's gaze anxiously flicked from the hand on her elbow to the man holding on to her as though he had every right to do so and then darted towards her left to where Daryl was standing silently. Narrowing her gaze, she stared at the bearded man suspiciously and asked, “And why me first exactly?”

“Just figured you to be the one in charge,” he explained without hesitation as he crooked a curious eyebrow towards her. When Mia simply stared at him questioningly, he went into further detail and said, “The older woman looked to you for answers. The kids haven't left your side and didn't leave to go eat until you said it was okay. That leads me to believe you're the lady in charge. Am I wrong?”

“Well, yeah, technically. I'm not in charge of anyone,” Mia argued, although she knew it was useless since the man was not actually wrong in his assumption. She never considered herself to be the leader of their group, but somehow it had ended up that way simply because the others were not designed to take the lead. Sighing, she said, “But, yeah, I guess I am to an extent. Your friend is as much as a ringleader in this group as I am though.”

“I believe that,” he replied with a smile that probably should have eased her nerves, but failed. He dropped her elbow and opted to offer her a shake of the hand instead. “I'm Rick by the way. Rick Grimes. The leader around here, I guess.”

“That much I gathered on my own,” Mia replied. “Mia Carter, nice to meet you. So, what do you need to know?”

“First, I'm gonna need your weapons. Standard procedure around here for newcomers, nothing personal,” Rick explained with a grim look as he held out his hand for her pistol and, no doubt, the knife that was tucked inside her boot.

Mia was torn, she understood the need to protect your flock from outsiders and by taking the weapons of the new people it lessened the danger to the ones that you had already sworn to protect, but damn if she liked the idea of being defenseless again. With her hand on the butt of her pistol, Mia glanced towards Daryl to see if he would step up to defend her honor and tell his friend that she was trustworthy enough, but was only met with the stony eyed silence that he was so good at. Sighing, she flipped the button on the holster to release the gun and toyed with it a bit before sliding the Glock out.

“She ain't gonna hurt no one around here,” Daryl muttered, surprising the shit out of Mia. He had barely spoken to her since their argument after she was injured, maybe a handful of words a day simply to discuss travel plans. “You can trust her.”

Mia wanted to snarl and tell Daryl that she did not need him to vouch for her, simply to aggravate the hell out of him, but refrained since she likely needed his word to keep her weapons. Instead, she forced an offering of gratitude to the tip of her tongue, but Daryl turned away from the both of them and let loose a shrill whistle before heading towards the restaurant with the others. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a massive beast push its way through the residual throngs of gawkers and excitedly fall into line with Daryl, its tongue lolling out of its mouth as it pranced along beside him with a happy prance.

“That's Wolf, he's sort of everyone's dog. Mostly Daryl's though,” Rick explained as he turned his attention back to Mia to find her staring after the duo as they disappeared through a set of double swinging doors. Gesturing towards a hallway just past the massive stone fireplace off the center of the lobby, he said, “Let's go somewhere more private. This won't take long, I promise.”

With a sigh of resignation, one she kept at whisper level instead of huffing it out loudly since it appeared as though he was going to let her keep her weapon, Mia followed Rick into an office that boasted floor to ceiling windows and let in a great deal of sunlight, despite the clouds that remained in the sky from the early morning storms. Taking a seat opposite him on a pair of dark leather office chairs, Mia did her best to appear calm and at ease, when in reality her heart was beating a mile a minute nervously.

“How many walkers have you killed?” Rick asked without preamble as he inched towards the edge of his seat to stare at her, making Mia feel as though she was back in Chief Harding's office being interviewed when the grass of the high school football field magically died overnight. Sure, it had been a senior prank gone wrong, but Mia and Micah had been at the forefront of the planning for the event.

“Walkers? Um, I don't know. Who keeps up with how many of the dead they take down? They're already dead, it's not like you can make them any deader?” Mia asked, dumbfounded. When she realized the man actually wanted a legit answer, she added, “My guess is a hundred or more, for sure?”

“How many people then?” Rick asked immediately, not deterred in the slightest by her response. “Living people, how many?”

“I'm gonna say eleven. Could be more, could be less.” Mia did not bat an eye when she replied, knowing full well that she was being judged for not knowing the amount of living, breathing people she had killed over the past seven or so years since the outbreak. Truth be told, the majority of them had not meant much to her as they were threatening the lives of someone she cared about or her community.

“Why?” He asked with a stony glare.

“Because I had to,” Mia replied straight faced, despite the sudden burst of stress sweat that had broken out on her body at being interrogated. While she held no guilt for the lives she had taken, the thought of being banished from the safety she was promised was daunting enough to freak her out. “If I didn't, they would have killed someone I care about or myself. I did what I had to for survival. Plain and simple. I'm not some crazed serial killer who gets off on killing, but if I have to do it, I will.”

“Last one, I promise.” Rick said after a beat of contemplative silence. He rubbed the palm of his right hand over his beard and asked, “Is anyone coming after you?”

“I hope not,” Mia replied honestly, hating the pit of uncertainty in her stomach at the thought. While it would have made more sense for someone to hit them on the road if they were in fact coming after her and the others, Mia was not one hundred percent certain that whomever else was working with Heather and Jimmy would not come looking for them eventually. Chewing on her bottom lip, she added, “I know we took out three of them, but I'm not sure if there were others working with them. So, I can't be positive that no one is coming after us. I can say that it's been a couple of weeks since we left and haven't had any trouble, if that helps at all.”

The silence she was met with was daunting and had her halfway to falling on her knees and pleading for him not to take away their sanctuary, their only hope for survival, when Rick finally spoke.

“I had to start asking the last question when Daryl started bringing in people from his mission's, it used to be just the three.” Rick leaned back in the chair and offered her a smile that must have charmed the pants off many women in his lifetime, effectively easing her stress levels. “Your group brings it to what? Like fifty or so that he's brought back.”

“According to his notebook, that sounds about right,” Mia replied, mentally tallying the check marks beside each location entry in Daryl's black and white speckled notebook. “He's saved a lot. I don't know why he does it, but I'm glad he did. I'm not sure I could have gotten everyone out on my own.”

“You want to talk about it?” Rick asked, offering an ear to listen or maybe a shoulder to cry on, considering he only asked after a fat tear leaked out of the corner of Mia's eye and drizzled down her cheek.

“Not really. No offense, but I really want to put it behind me and move on,” Mia explained as she ran the back of her hand over her eyes to wipe away the tears that she refused to cry. Sniffling a bit, she continued, “I just really want to start over and find a life. Here, if you'll have us.”

“There was never any question about that, Mia. Daryl brought you home for a reason,” Rick said as he stood up and held a hand out to her and pulled her up from the office chair that looked far more comfortable than it actually was. “You're one of us now.”

“Thank you,” Mia managed to choke out as emotion overtook her. She pressed a hand to her mouth and tried her best to stifle the sob of happiness that slipped out a half second before the tears that matched it rolled down her cheeks. Screw it, for the first time in a long time, she had a true reason to be happy and damn it, she was going to take it; tears be damned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be leaving to go out of town for the holidays when I work off Wednesday morning, so I may or may not be able to update Sunday. It totally depends on if I can get free time to write between now and then. If for some reason I am not able to post, I hope everyone that celebrates these holidays has a great one. Thank you so much for your support on this story and to those that comment, an extra helping of gratitude to you!
> 
> Happy Holidays.


	57. Chapter 57

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy snickerdoodle, it's an update after all! Clearly it's a Christmas Miracle! Haha. I managed to carve out some time to write while the cakes and casseroles were baking. Hope everyone enjoys it and has a safe and happy holiday tomorrow, if you celebrate it.

_"Transmission from the stars  
A message from the atmosphere  
Etched into my heart  
Your purpose there is still unclear  
The ghost of you lives on  
Through everything I see and touch  
And even when you're gone  
Even if it's hard  
Even when I'm far  
I will always be there."_

_Falling in Reverse "Coming Home"_

Darkness loomed on the horizon, the sign of another day coming to an end with swirls of navy blue against the fiery backdrop of vibrant orange and magenta hues that only the fading sunlight could provide. Dinner was in full swing by the time Daryl sauntered in with Wolf in tow, both reeking to high heaven and with rumbling tummies. He had yet to partake in the outdoor showers and clean clothing that the rest of the group had eagerly delved into earlier that morning after arriving at the lodge. Looking into the dining area from the restaurant entrance, seeing the freshly scrubbed faces and dirt free clothing of the lodge dwellers inside, Daryl glanced down at his own filthy clothes and halfway considered backtracking out of the restaurant to rectify the issue, but brushed the concern aside and headed towards the buffet of food set up towards the right wall instead. He did not care what the others thought of him and fuck them if they had an issue with his grimy clothes and stench that followed behind him like a ghost...or rather, he did not want to care what they thought and did his best to make it seem that way.

Grabbing a plate from the stack on the table, Daryl barely glanced at the people busy at work in the kitchen and started loading it down with food. While he had eaten a meager breakfast before making the final leg of the trek that led them to the lodge and had taken a solid fifteen minutes to shove a hastily prepared sandwich into his mouth after they had arrived, he had spent the majority of the rest of the day outside avoiding everyone, either in the woods down by the lake or at the graveyard tucked away on the edge of the main section of lodge property and was now thoroughly starved.

A sliver of guilt wormed its way inside of him when he bypassed his family in favor of reclaiming the table tucked away at the rear of the restaurant that afforded him the isolation his soul craved. Daryl honestly hated the black cloud that had followed him around relentlessly since Lily's death, the one that seemingly multiplied after realizing he had allowed Mia to get shot and nearly die, but he had no clue how to deal with the darkness and make it go away. Therefore, he pushed the guilt aside and sank down into his old chair with barely a glance towards the tables his family occupied. Wolf, the ever obedient companion, made himself comfortable by Daryl's feet and waited patiently for his scraps of meat to be dropped to the floor.

Of course, his half-assed attempt at isolation was fleeting, when Mary barged in on his alone time with her sister in tow. He should have expected the intrusion, as she had done the same thing back when he had brought her to the lodge and each time he had returned after that, but adjusting to someone actually wanting to spend time with him was a hard lesson to learn for Daryl. Unlike Mary, none of the other rescues he had brought home associated with him much outside of warm welcomes and the occasional expression of gratitude, and Daryl was thankful for that. He assumed their distance was because he had spent less time with them and was less personable, since they'd had one another during the trek, whereas Mary had had only him during the week they were on the road together. Without meaning to do so, they had formed at least a tenuous bond while traveling together and Mary apparently refused to let him out of that silent agreement. Now, judging by the pigtailed shadow that followed behind her, Mary's little sister, Lucy, had joined into the mix.

“You make it really difficult for someone to say thanks to, you know?” Mary asked with a teasing tone to her voice as she picked up her fork and started eating. After swallowing a bite of roasted duck, she carried on with the conversation, knowing full well that Daryl had no intention of answering her question, rhetorical or not. “Not that I even know if I can say that enough. I honestly didn't think you'd be able to do it, to bring Lucy home to me. Well, I did at first, but after this long? I'd kind of given up hope. I hate that I did, but it had been what, like a year since you'd been here last time? Carl told me not to give up hope, that if anyone could pull off a crazy ass miracle, it'd be you, but-” Pausing mid-sentence, as though she finally realized she was rambling and knew Daryl hated it when she did that, Mary blushed and said, “Sorry, didn't mean to ramble on like that. Anyway, all I'm trying to say is thank you. I'll never be able to repay you for bringing my sister home to me.”

Uncomfortable with Mary's praise, Daryl ducked his head and focused on the food in front of him, offering up only a pitiful shrug of his shoulder as though to say there was nothing worthy of gratitude about his actions. Typically, this would have been the point in the conversation where Mary would either ramble on about trivial nonsense without expecting Daryl to join in or fall into a shared silence with him, but with the addition to her sister at the table, neither happened. Instead, Lucy pounced on his refusal to accept Mary's gratitude.

“You shouldn't just brush it off. What you did? There's not a lot of people now that would do that,” Lucy said, pausing mid-bite to add in her two cents on the matter. Freshly scrubbed, her chestnut locks were pulled back into matching braids that trailed down her back and made her look younger than the thirteen-ish years she really was. Freckles stood out against the sun-kissed skin their trek had donned her with and the gap in her front teeth caused certain words in her vocabulary to whistle adorably, something that probably would have earned her a great deal of harassment in a normal setting with school-aged bullies, but went mostly unnoticed these days.

“He knows, Luce, he just doesn't want it to be pointed out. Or, that's what Carl says anyway. That Daryl just doesn't like the flattery, he's uncomfortable with the attention,” Mary said with a smile that was caused by equal amounts of happiness over having her sister with her and the mention of Carl, which Daryl finally picked up on.

“Second time you said his name since you sat down,” Daryl pointed out with a curious squint to his eyes, finally taking a second out of his own pity party to pay attention to the details around him. Glancing over his shoulder towards the table where the younger Grimes children were sitting with their father and Michonne, he managed to catch Carl staring over at their table, before he blushed and ducked his head, effectively hiding behind a curtain of brown hair.

“Yeah, because they're in love,” Lucy said, ratting out her sister with a sing-songy lilt to her words. Grinning widely, she added, “And they're gonna get married!”

“Married? They ain't old enough to get hitched,” Daryl replied with a frown, knowing damned well that even if the two were actually going to go through with the nuptials that it was not any of his business. But, there he was, falling down the hole and getting involved.

“We are, too! I'm eighteen, or close enough anyway,” Mary replied indignantly, her cheeks reddening immediately from a mix of annoyance and embarrassment. Lowering her voice, she added, “And, hush! We haven't told his dad yet. Or, well, anyone really.”

“Why not? He's so cute, you should totally tell everyone so you can hurry up and get married and have babies,” Lucy said with a dreamy smile on her face as she eyeballed Carl from across the room. Clearly the young teen was already quite taken with her big sisters boyfriend. “Seriously, he's so cute.”

“Babies? Uh, no way, I'm not ready for babies. That we are definitely too young for,” Mary added with a slightly panicked tone to her voice, although she was already taking the risk of doing just that. Changing the topic, clearly uncomfortable with having the focus of the conversation placed on her and Carl, she said, “Have you seen Mia around? I want to thank her, too, for taking such good care of Lucy.”

“Ain't seen her since this morning,” Daryl replied as he shoveled the last bit of vegetables into his mouth. Dropping his fork to the plate, he grabbed a chunk of meat and tossed it to the floor for Wolf, who eagerly devoured the treat. Glancing around the room and not finding her sitting with the others from their group, he furrowed his brow and said, “She ain't here?”

“I haven't seen her since this morning either,” Lucy said with a frown. “I thought she'd be here for lunch, but Mae said she wasn't feeling well and was laying down. I think they took her something to eat, but I kind of expected her to be here for dinner at least.”

Although he was concerned, given Mia's injuries that were still recent enough that her absence gave him pause, Daryl refused to allow his expression to give away his feelings. Instead of delving into reasons for Mia's absence, Daryl shrugged and said, “Mia's grown. She'll show up when she wants.”

“Cranky much?” Mary asked with a sarcastic ribbon twined around her words, even though she was fairly accustomed to his level of foul moods whenever he was home. When he did not reply, not even to offer up an equally sarcastic remark, Mary tilted her head and eyeballed him and furrowed her dark eyebrows with worry. “What's wrong? You made it home and you helped so many people, why the dark mood?”

“Don't got to have a reason and wouldn't be none of your business if there was,” Daryl growled as he pushed up from the table and gathered his dishes. Thankfully, after two years of dealing with his gloomy temper, Mary no longer teared up when he snapped at her and for that he was grateful. Although, he still felt like a shit when he did so, knowing that the kid was only trying to be a friend to him and all he could offer her in return was a handful of shared meals that often times had tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.

“And he's off,” Mary muttered with a roll of her eyes. Sighing, she glared up at him before he darted away and said, “I'm glad you're home, just so you know. Just because you don't want to be here doesn't mean there aren't people that want you to be.”

And, like many times before, Daryl ignored her and left without saying a word.

After shoving his dirty dishes into the bin by the buffet table, Daryl headed towards the exit with the intentions of finally locating clean clothes and taking a much needed shower, but found himself making a beeline towards the table where Mae and Blake were finishing up dinner with the children. Upon arriving at the table, Daryl self-consciously shuffled his feet when he was met with an icy glare for Blake, one that he earned rightfully after giving Mia the cold shoulder the past couple of weeks.

“What a gorgeous dog,” Mae said warmly, breaking the icy layer of tension between Daryl and Blake momentarily. Gesturing towards the wolfhound, she asked, “May I?”

“Yeah, sure. If he wants,” Daryl replied with a glance towards the dog who was eager to accept petting from just about anyone that was willing to dole it out to him. For a large dog who appeared quite menacing, Wolf was as close to a loving lap dog as he could get. While Mae scratched Wolf behind his ears, leaving a trail of drool hanging down from his wide open mouth, Daryl tried to maintain a casual demeanor as he asked, “Where's Mia at?”

“What do you care?” Blake asked, butting in and cutting off Mae's response. Growing a backbone seemingly out of thin air, he dropped his fork to his plate and added, “It's not like you've given a damn about her in weeks.”

“Blake-” Mae started, sending Blake a warning with that tone that only mothers could possess, despite the fact that she no doubt felt the same way. It had been quite evident that Daryl's cold shoulder towards Mia had caused hurt feelings with Mae as well, clearly leaving the older woman feeling torn between the two of them; the woman who she had known since she was a child and the man who had helped save them from an unknown future. But, Mae was old school and kept her feelings to herself for the most part, hence the chastising tone towards Blake's behavior.

“Mary and Lucy's looking for her,” Daryl said without giving Mae a chance to continue her sentence. “Figure'd I'd ask for them.”

“Right,” Blake replied with a disbelieving tone, which was justified since Daryl was lying and apparently they both knew it. “Well, not that you deserve to know, but she went to bed.”

“She wasn't feeling well, dear,” Mae added, turning her attention away from Wolf and back to her meal, despite Wolf's whimper of protest. “Between the injuries, the travel and everything else, she had a headache and went to bed early. I could tell her that you were looking for her when I go up to check on her before bed, if you'd like?”

“Tell her the girls was looking for her,” Daryl answered, catching on to Mae's not so veiled attempt at bridging the gap between him and Mia. Lying through his teeth, he added, “Wasn't me that wanted her. Mary wants to thank her for taking care of Lucy is all.”

“Yeah, because she's of no use to you know, right? Already got what you wanted,” Blake said, murmuring just loud enough for Daryl to hear him, but not loud enough so that the rest of the room understood. Cocking one ginger colored eyebrow up towards Daryl, Blake dismissed him, “Go back to where ever you've been hiding all day, why don't you? Mia's better off without you anyway.”

Most people would have been pissed if Blake talked to them the way he was with Daryl at that moment, but Daryl Dixon was not like most other people. Nope, oddly enough, Daryl was actually a little impressed and wished the kid had of found his balls when it had come to dealing with Gage. Sadly, the bearded asshole who had disrespected Blake on a daily basis was not around to get what was due to him from the suddenly saucy ginger.

“Yeah, you're right,” Daryl muttered in response to Blake's statement, knowing full well that Mia was better off without him in her life. She could do better than him and deserved better than what he could offer her, which amounted to nothing but a life of disappointment and failure. But, he did not voice those thoughts to Blake, who was staring up at him with contempt sketched all over his freckled face. Bidding them and the table full of curious, wide eyed kid’s goodnight, Daryl turned on his heel and fled the restaurant with Wolf in tow, all the while telling himself not to find out what room Mia was in and go check on her.

In order to give Mia the life she deserved and keep her safe, Daryl knew he had to keep his feelings in check and stay away from her...no matter how difficult it was going to be.


	58. Chapter 58

_“No one gets out alive, every day is do or die.  
The one thing you leave behind,  
Is how did you love, how did you love?  
It’s not what you believe,   
Those prayers will make you bleed.  
But while you’re on your knees,  
How did you love, how did you love,  
How did you love?”_

__

_Shinedown “How Did You Love?”_

Nearly a week had passed since they had arrived at the lodge and Mia had yet to adjust to her new surroundings. She felt disjointed and out of place, a feeling she had never really possessed before. Growing up, she had always been the confident one, the extrovert who was always ready to meet new people and conquer the world. Micah had always been the cautious one, the introvert who for the most part was perfectly happy to live in his own little world with the handful of people he had handpicked. Had it not been for Mia dragging her twin out into the world, forcing him to meet new people and have new experiences, she was certain that he would have turned into a hermit and been perfectly content with doing so. Micah had returned the favor by giving Mia his calm, steady hand in the somewhat chaotic storm of her soul. Her brother had centered her and she, in turn, had coaxed him out of his shell. As twins, they had leaned on one another for support, each offering the other a little bit of themselves to survive in the world, but now Mia was one half of a puzzle that could never be whole again and she was struggling to survive without her other half.

Now, for the first time in her life, she was forced to face the world without Micah and damn it if she was not having a difficult time doing so. It was discombobulating, the sudden overwhelming fear of facing the other members at the lodge and finding her place among them, and Mia had to admit that she was struggling. For the umpteenth time since they had arrived, she stood awkwardly in the hallway outside of the restaurant where a group of women sat around tables with buckets of fresh picked vegetables, methodically prepping them while partaking in idle chit chat. A handful of smaller children, no more than four years old, ran around the restaurant playing, shrieking and giggling, while their mothers were busy at work helping out their community; something Mia desperately wanted to participate in and yet, for some reason unbeknownst to her, she could not seem to make her feet walk forward and join them.

“Morning, you need something?” A voice startled her from behind, causing Mia to nearly jump out of her skin. Turning around, she found herself face to face with, Maggie, the massively pregnant brunette that had helped the group the first day they had shown up.

“Oh, um, no. Not really,” Mia replied with a nervous stammer, blushing profusely at the notion of being caught staring longingly at the group of women inside the restaurant like some sort of weird stalker. “I, uh, was just looking for something to do. Rick said we'd be assigned tasks, but no one has said anything to me about it yet.”

“We typically give the new one's time to adjust to being here before putting them to work,” Maggie said as she placed a hand on the curve of her back to help support her rotund belly. “Usually a couple of weeks, but if you're ready to work I can let Rick know so we can find a place for you. For now, you could help us shell peas. It's not glamorous, but we have a large harvest to get ready to be canned for the winter.”

“That would be great. Thank you,” Mia said earnestly, before eagerly following Maggie inside the restaurant. Inside, there were six women gathered around a large grouping of tables in the center of the room with baskets lined up in front of them.

“I doubt you've met everyone yet, right? You haven't been here long enough to get the full round of introductions.” Maggie paused long enough for Mia to shake her head silently, before pointing out each woman and introducing them one by one. “Okay, from left to right, you've got Penelope, Edie, Joyce, Betty, Trina and Latisha. Everyone, meet Mia, she came in with Daryl earlier in the week.”

Mia smiled in return and greeted the group, mentally running over their names and faces in hopes of keeping track of them, and took a seat next to Penelope, who pushed a basket full of green beans in her direction and asked, “You familiar with the process?”

“Yes, um, my grandmother taught me when I was little,” Mia answered as she took the basket and reached in to grab a bean, methodically plucking the ends off before placing it into another basket. “These are beautiful. I take it you guys didn't have an issue with the lack of rain and pests this year? Our crops were pathetic this season.”

“Rain was an issue, but Penelope's husband, Eugene, managed to work with Rick and the two of them finagled a water storage system to help with irrigation that helped. We do at least have a lot of water around us,” the redhead across from her replied. Edie? Shit, Mia mentally cursed as she realized she had not done a spectacular job at remembering their names. “And we were lucky to not have any pests. What'd you have? Aphids?”

Mia nodded as she plucked another bean from the basket. “Worst case I've seen in my lifetime and I've been gardening since I was a kid. Killed half of our crops at the first of summer and the rest of what we could salvage was pitiful. If it hadn't been for what we had canned from the year before, we would have had a very hard time this summer.”

“Rick could always use more help out in the fields, especially someone with knowledge of crop management. I'm sure we could get you assigned there, if you'd like? Of course, they're almost done for the season, but next spring for sure,” Maggie interjected with a kind smile. “That way we'd just have to find you something for the winter. What else do you like to do? What'd you do before the outbreak?”

“Um, I like to swim, but that's not going to be a help during the winter,” Mia replied, pausing as she gathered up another handful of beans. “I'm pretty good at drawing, art stuff. Not as good as my brother was, but I can hold my own. I used to write kids’ books back in the day. Micah would do most of the artwork, but I can draw a mean cat when needed.”

“We have another writer around here, but he wrote sci-fi books,” Penelope chimed in. “He tried teaching literature to some of the older kids, but it didn't go so well. He has a degree in history, so he just sticks to that subject now. Maybe you could teach it?”

“If no one else is doing it, I'd love to,” Mia replied earnestly. “I taught the girls a couple times a week, but our group was on the smaller side, so everyone had to chip in and work. We didn't get to do as much educationally speaking as I would have liked. Mostly I taught them real world applications, gardening, cooking, stuff like that.”

“Did he get everyone out?” Trina asked quietly, changing the subject out of the blue. Mia glanced up from her pile of beans and studied the young woman briefly, taking in her golden tan skin, thick black hair and striking features that could have made her a model back in the day. But, it was the sorrow that filled her eyes combined with a long scar that ran from the corner of her mouth back towards her ear in a ghastly half smile that let Mia know that what Trina had went through before coming to Lake Lanier was far worse than what she had ever experienced. “Daryl? Did he get them all?”

Choked on a lump of emotion that was suddenly in her throat, Mia shook her head and said, “He got out the kids, but we couldn't get everyone. There's a couple of women that were left behind. I hated to do it, but they were close with Heather, the one in charge of...um, rounding up the kids for trade and we couldn't be sure they could be trusted.”

“So, he was there for a while? That's not usually how Daryl does things,” Latisha asked, her hands no longer working on her own pile of beans. Curiosity glittered in her dark chocolate eyes as she studied Mia, before adding, “When he got me and Trina out, he just killed the ones holding us and took us with him. In and out, rescued overnight.”

“I'm sure that's what he planned,” Mia replied, not wanting to admit that Daryl's plan had fallen through because of her. “We um, were a smaller group of women and children, but Daryl said there were more men in our camp than previous one's he had taken. More security, more eyes watching during the night. His usual plan wouldn't have worked on us. He lived with me, um...us, for a few months until we got a chance to escape.”

Mia did not miss the way Maggie's attention turned towards her when she mentioned that Daryl had not only lived in their compound for a length of time, but also that he had specifically lived with her during that duration. She took notice of the curiosity in Maggie's stare and wondered if she might find out some of the answers to the questions about Daryl from the woman. While Daryl had kept his word about keeping his distance from her, Mia had seen him on a few occasions, mostly meals, and had yet to see him engaged in any actions that suggested he was involved with any of the women at the lodge in a romantic manner. She had thought the first day that the older gray haired woman that had latched on to him in the lodge might be his wife, but she had since learned that Carol was involved with one of the doctor's on sight.

“Well, I wouldn't be surprised if we wake up to find him gone soon,” Trina added with a sad sigh. “He'll probably go back for them at some point. Daryl doesn't stay around long.”

“Why not?” Mia asked curiously, snapping off the ends of a bean all nonchalant-like, as though she was not dying to know more about Daryl. “This place seems great and his family is here. I can't imagine not wanting to stay here all the time.”

“He can't find peace here since his girlfriend died,” Penelope answered softly, her voice like a whisper on a gentle wind. The petite dark haired woman had a voice to match her stature.

“That's not our story to tell,” Maggie said, effectively cutting off all gossip at the table about Daryl and sending the rest of the women into a silent state of methodical bean snapping. “And, Daryl will come home permanently when he's ready.”

After that, the gossip session ended altogether, much to Mia's dismay. She wanted information about Daryl, craved the knowledge that would lead her to understand the man, and damned if she was going to get it directly from the source. But, with Maggie in the room, her well of information dried up quickly, so she decided to put her questions on the back burner until she could get one of the women out of earshot of Maggie and went back to work on the seemingly ever-growing pile of beans in her basket.

Later that evening, long after dinner had been served and after the majority of people at the lodge had gone off to their rooms for the night, Mia found herself alone in the lobby of the lodge and plopped down on the overstuffed leather couch by the fire and simply enjoyed the silence. While she'd enjoyed her time being productive and contributing to the community, being around seven chatty women and their equally loud children had drained her of what energy she had started the day with. Her head throbbed as she sank further down onto the couch and rested it against the back of the somewhat cool leather and closed her eyes. Doc Allen had checked her over earlier in the week, mostly to appease Mae, and had determined that her headaches and dizziness were a result of the concussion she had suffered after being bashed in the head in Gage's basement, but even the doctor thought the residual effects of that injury should have started to disappear by now. Unfortunately, the symptoms were still giving her fits and had added bouts of nausea to the mix, thanks to the vertigo she suffered through on and off during the day.

By night fall, Mia was more than happy to slink off to the silence of her room and rest her weary head, but at that particular moment, even walking up the stairs seemed a bit on the daunting side. So, there she sat, eyes closed and utterly alone in the lobby, or so she thought. About halfway to sleepy town, Mia was rousted by the sudden intrusion of something heavy and furry thrusting itself against her legs. Eyes open, she came face to face with the massive beast that followed Daryl's every move, but a quick, nervous glance around the room produced no Daryl at that moment. Gingerly, she eased up from her slouched position and made sure to keep her movements calm and controlled as she did so. While the dog seemed friendly, it was also a very large wolf mix and that alone caused Mia's anxiety to spike.

After a moment of staring at one another, the dog plopped its hindquarters onto the ground by her feet and rested its beastly head in her lap with its ear pressed against her lower abdomen. Tentatively, she raised a hand and gently rested the palm of it against the top of Wolf's head and petted its deceptively soft fur, earning a whimper of delight from the dog. Relaxing a bit, Mia leaned her head back once more and closed her eyes, only to be disturbed once more.

“He ain't bothering you is he?” Daryl asked, his scratchy voice closer than she would have thought he could have gotten before catching her attention. Cracking her eyes, Mia stared up at Daryl and hated the way her stomach flip-flopped at the sight of him. Of course, with the way she had been feeling lately, it could just be nausea and that thought made her feel slightly better.

“No, he scared me at first, but we're friends now. I think anyway,” Mia replied as she caressed Wolf's silky fur. “He's beautiful. Massive, but beautiful.”

“If he ain't bothering you, then just send him up when you go to bed. He can find the way,” Daryl said, before turning his back to her to head upstairs to his room, not bothering to even pretend to engage in friendly, polite conversation with her.

Mia's heart sank at the sight of his back as he retreated towards the stairs. It was not like she was in love with the man. Hell, she barely knew him. She had no idea what he liked, what he disliked, anything about his family, or even how old he was. But, what she did know was that he was a broken man who would risk his life for a stranger. And, honestly, was that not enough of a reason to want a person in your life? Mia thought so and while it made her look weak, she was not sure she was done fighting for his friendship.

“You aren't bothering me either,” Mia called out timidly, her stomach knotting into a fit of nerves at the possibility of being brushed aside once more. “You could stay, too, you know?”

“We done talked about this,” Daryl said softly, his scratchy voice full of gravel and grit. He did not leave, not yet, and that was just a little victory that Mia wished she could revel in, but he refused to turn around and look her in the face as he rejected her and that both infuriated Mia and hurt her feelings. “We said...”

“No, you said, Daryl. You decided. I didn't,” Mia said, cutting him off in the middle of the lie he had obviously told himself. Wriggling out from beneath Wolf's head, Mia pushed off the couch with a frustrated sigh. “And you won't tell me why. I think I at least deserve that.”

With a heavy sigh, Daryl turned to face her and Mia hated the sight of turmoil in his crystalline blue eyes. Hating him would be easier if he did not look like he was hurting, too. How could he push her aside and yet look as though doing so was physically hurting him? It did not make one ounce of sense. Matching his pained expression with one of her own, Mia added, “Just tell me why?”

“I ain't good for you, that's why,” Daryl finally growled with a grunt of frustration. She could tell he was not used to having his actions questioned, much less from someone who truly refused to obey his orders to drop the issue and demanded answers.

“I'm a grown woman, Daryl. I think I can make up my mind about who is and who isn't good for me,” Mia whispered as she took a step towards him, pushing aside the wave of dizziness that washed over her as she took the first step. “I...I just thought it'd be nice to have at least one friend here that didn't come with me, to know someone who lived here already. Friendship, is that such a horrible thing to ask for? Would it kill you to be my friend?”

“It might kill you,” Daryl grumbled low, almost too low for her to hear and Mia still was not sure she had heard him correctly. She went to ask him to repeat his comment, but he continued on and said, “I can't be what you want.”

“Oh, so now you know what I want? A mind reader, are you? Please, by all means, tell me what I want, Daryl? Let me hear it,” Mia challenged as she stood before him with a daring glint in her eye. Met with his stony eyed silence again, Mia let out her own growl of frustration and asked, “Is this because we had sex? Because that's all it was, Daryl. Sex. Fucking. Two people letting go of stress. It was nice, sure, but don't get so full of yourself to think it made me want to run off into the sunset with you and get married. Is that what's freaking you out so much?”

Her heart raced and blood pounded furiously through her veins as annoyance coursed through her body. Sometimes men could be downright idiots. No, scratch that, most of the time men were downright idiots. She wanted to scream and rant at him for being stupid, to make it a point to tell him that he was not the first man she had jumped into bed with simply for the sake of pleasure and he might not be the last, and to get over himself. Unfortunately, her mouth and the rest of her body refused to work together as another wave of dizziness washed over her and knocked her off balance. Swaying dangerously, the room tilted around her and darkness took hold, sending Mia tumbling to the ground...

Where she would have landed in a heap, had Daryl not caught her in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone has a safe and happy New Year's Eve!


	59. Chapter 59

_“Just tonight I will stay and we’ll throw  
It all away.  
When the light hits your eyes  
It’s telling me I’m right.  
And if I, I am through  
Then it’s all because of you.  
Just tonight._

__

_The Pretty Reckless “Just Tonight”_

Despite the fact that the air outside was still warm, the fireplace in the lodge lobby was lit and roaring; embers crackling and popping while illuminating the stone and timber room with a rich, amber hue. The flames danced in the dark, casting shadows over the once opulent greeting area of the sprawling estate and flickered over the figure that lounged on one of the overstuffed leather couches that flanked the river rock mantle that housed the fireplace.

Mia's head rested against the back of the burnt sienna leather, the flames picking up the golden highlights in her chestnut hair as it trickled down around her face. Eyes closed, she looked infinitely more relaxed than she had since he had stumbled upon her so many months ago, with the exception of the few times she had been able to go swimming back at the compound. Her legs sprawled out in front of her and Daryl was surprised to see the massive furry head of Wolf resting on Mia's thighs with his eyes closed as she idly caressed his thick brownish gray coat.

Daryl knew that he should slip quietly up the stairs without calling attention to himself, but the devil on his shoulder refused to listen to the angle; the story of his life, really. Instead of being the good man he knew he should be, Daryl found himself no longer in the archway that led to the pool exit and halfway across the lobby floor before he managed to force his feet to stop their progression towards Mia.

“He ain't bothering you is he?” Daryl asked after fumbling over his words in his head, at a loss as to what to say to Mia after the way he had been treating her lately. His voice was strained and scratchy, the way it tended to be, full of gravel and grit, but keeping to himself and not including himself much in the way of conversation the past couple of days had his voice coarser than usual.

“No, he scared me at first, but we're friends now. I think anyway,” Mia replied, glancing up at him sharply as though his presence startled her. She sat up straighter to and gazed up at him with a timid smile as she caressed Wolf's silky fur. “He's beautiful. Massive, but beautiful.”

“If he ain't bothering you, then just send him up when you go to bed. He can find the way,” Daryl said sharply, his words coming out far harsher than he had intended for them to be. Standing there, closer than he had been to her in weeks, Daryl felt a rush of warmth spread over him, simply from being in Mia's presence and for half a damned second he wanted to throw his convictions out the proverbial window in regards to Mia's safety around him. Luckily, or unfortunately, common sense flooded his brain and reminded Daryl of why he needed to stay away from her and before he could do something stupid like give into hormones, he turned his back to Mia to head upstairs to his room.

“You aren't bothering me either,” Mia called out to him, her voice shaky as though she was nervous and really, who could blame her after the way he had treated her lately. Cold shoulder treatment was not a good time, especially when it came from someone you obviously had a bond with, no matter how tenuous that connection was. The pleading tone in her voice, intentional or not, tugged at his heart and begged for him to turn around and give into what they both obviously wanted. “You could stay, too, you know?”

“We done talked about this,” Daryl ground out in response, his words strained as he fought the demons inside that urged him to take what he wanted, and possibly needed. He paused and struggled with the devil on his other shoulder. Shaking his head, Daryl sighed and clenched his hands into fists at his side and growled, “We said...”

“No, you said, Daryl. You decided. I didn't,” Mia said, cutting him off so that he did not have to hear himself tell yet another lie. Leather creaked beneath her as she crawled off the couch and the sound of her boots against the stone floor let him know that she was heading his way. When she spoke again, he could tell she was closer than she had been, but was still a few feet away from him. “And you won't tell me why. I think I at least deserve that.”

With a heavy sigh, Daryl turned to face Mia, despite knowing that doing so would just make what he had to do a thousand times harder than it would have been if he did not have to look into her eyes and lie to her once more. The words were on the tip of his tongue and the deception tasted bitter in his mouth, but the sight of tears sparkling in Mia's hazel eyes caused him to choke back the lies.

“Just tell me why?” Mia urged, her words barely a whisper as she pleaded to him with the sadness in her gaze. She stepped towards him, closing the much needed gap between them, and Daryl did his best not to do the same.

“I ain't good for you, that's why,” he finally growled out in frustration, clenching his fists even tighter in hopes that by doing so his hands would not reach for the woman in front of him. If only he could figure out a way to make Mia understand that he was not the man she thought he was, that he was no good, that being in his life would only guarantee that hers would never be safe, but without telling her what made him the way he was there was no way to make her understand.

“I'm a grown woman, Daryl. I think I can make up my mind about who is and who isn't good for me,” she whispered in response, taking yet another step towards him, as cautious as one would take if they were approaching a scared dog in the wild. “I...I just thought it'd be nice to have at least one friend here that didn't come with me, to know someone who lived here already. Friendship, is that such a horrible thing to ask for? Would it kill you to be my friend?”

“It might kill you,” Daryl murmured in frustration. He wanted to tell her why they could not be together, not even as friends, but he could not find the words to admit the guilt that plagued his very existence. No matter how much Mia thought she needed to know why, Daryl did not want to see the realization on her face when he told her the truth. He could not see the pity in her gaze when she found out the truth about him, that he was not the hero she thought he was, so he kept the truth from her and carried on with the lie. “I can't be what you want,” he finally ground out, clenching his jaw tightly to keep from spilling the truth instead.

“Oh, so now you know what I want? A mind reader, are you? Please, by all means, tell me what I want, Daryl? Let me hear it,” Mia challenged with a feisty snip to her voice, her own frustration pushing to the surface. With an exasperated hand gesture, she asked, “Is this because we had sex? Because that's all it was, Daryl. Sex. Fucking. Two people letting go of stress. It was nice, sure, but don't get so full of yourself to think it made me want to run off into the sunset with you and get married. Is that what's freaking you out so much?”

Of course that was not the reason, but damned if he got a chance to say so, because Daryl barely had a chance to flinch at the question before Mia swayed dangerously in front of him and started to melt into the ground. Reacting solely on instinct before his mind could fully register what was happening, Daryl closed the remaining gap between them with lightning fast reflexes and managed to catch her in his arms a moment before she collapsed to the ground. Holding on to Mia's limp body, Daryl somehow managed to maneuver her around so that she was perched in his arms when she finally started to wake back up.

“What happened?” she asked groggily as she blinked up at him in confusion. Without giving him a chance to answer her question, she added, “Why are you carrying me?”

“Getting to be a habit,” Daryl groused, referencing the last time she had passed out and he'd had to carry her several miles while they searching for a safe place to rest. “Least you ain't bleeding all over me like a stuck pig this time.”

“There's that,” Mia replied softly, her response barely a whisper. “I'm fine now, you can put me down.”

“Yeah, no, figure on making sure you get to your room. Don't need you sleeping on the floor somewhere or falling down no stairs when there ain't no one around to see if you broke your neck or something,” Daryl murmured as he started up the next flight of stairs. “I'll track down the doc after you're in your room, have him check you out.”

“I've already seen the doctor, Daryl. I'm fine. Or, I guess, I will be fine after a while. Please, I can walk on my own,” Mia said as she wriggled in his arms in a pathetic attempt to remove herself from his hold. Failing, her movements only succeeding in making his grasp on her tighter, Mia stilled in his arms. “Fine. Break your back, see if I care,” she grumbled petulantly,

Daryl waited until he neared her third floor bedroom, one located on the opposite end of the room he had once shared with Lily and was now forced to reside in alone, although he had yet to spend an entire night inside, before talking again to keep from huffing and puffing during the trek. Halfway down the hallway from her room, he asked, “Mae said you ain't felt good since we got here. What'd Doc say?”

“Residual issues from the concussion. Said to rest and come back and see him next week if nothing changes,” Mia replied as she rested her head against his pectoral muscle, although Daryl did not know if she was leaning her head on him out of comfort or exhaustion. “Guess I'll need to go see him tomorrow now though.”

“Need to see him tonight,” Daryl argued as they approached her room. He stopped in front of her closed bedroom door and regretted that he had to let her down from his arms. When she slid from his hold, he hated the cold feeling that remained from no longer having her warm body against his. As expected, Mia objected to the request of rousting Doc Allen from his room, so Daryl offered up an alternate route, “Least let me grab Mae. Don't feel right leaving you alone after that.”

Despite the low level of light in the hallway provided by the faint glow of the moon and one solitary oil lamp by the stairwell, Daryl could see well enough to see the shake of Mia's head as she objected to his request. Aggravated, he muttered a curse and added, “Blake then?”

“No. I'm fine, it was just a dizzy spell. There's no sense in bothering anyone else tonight,” Mia replied, infuriatingly refusing to accept any of his offers. When he let loose another growl and muttered curse, something to do with the thickness of her skull and pigheadedness that may or may not have been along the lines of the pot calling the kettle black, Mia glowered at him and snarled, “What the hell is your problem anyway? Huh? One minute you don't want anything to do with me and the next, you're halfway up my ass with concern over my well-being. You can't have it both ways, Daryl. I have feelings and you can't keep messing with them. Just be done with it or figure out what you want, because I'm tired of being jerked around like a dog with a play toy.”

“I went through a lot of shit to make sure your ass made it back here,” Daryl growled in response, taking a step through the door towards Mia without consciously telling his feet and legs to do so. Why in the hell did this woman have to make his life so damned complicated? He told himself that he wished she would just do as she was told, but deep down even Daryl knew that her obstinate behavior was one of the things he liked about her. There was something very appealing about a woman who refused to roll over and do what she was told. But, that did not mean that she was not currently pushing all the right buttons to annoy him at the moment. Hackles raised in anger, he snarled, “Least you could do is make sure you stay alive.”

The silence from Mia was unnerving as she glared at him from the shadowy depths of the tiny hallway, her eyes glowed with ire as she studied him intently. Eventually, she shook her head at his words and sighed in frustration. “I can't with you. I don't even know why I care, I really don't. You might just be the biggest asshole I've ever met.” Mia turned her back to him then and walked further into the darkened room, leaving Daryl to wonder if he should shut the door or follow after her to continue their argument. No matter how infuriating either one of them was being at the current moment, he honestly did not want to leave her alone after witnessing the way her eyeballs rolled back into her damned head and she passed out on him for the second time in the past couple of weeks.

Left alone in the threshold of the doorway, Daryl stood there like a statue of uncertainty as his mind tried its best to work out a reasonable response to the questions in his mind. Frozen, one foot inside the bedroom and one foot safely placed in the hallway, he heard Mia say, “If you're so hell bent on someone watching over me while I sleep, then you can do it your damned self, but don't for one fucking minute think I am going to allow you to go wake someone else up just for me. I said I'm fine and that's the end of it.”

Decision made, albeit poorly, Daryl stepped further into her bedroom and shut the door behind him, engulfing them both in utter darkness while Mia struggled to light the oil lamp on her bedside table. When the room was lit in a soft golden glow, Daryl stepped out of the tiny hallway that housed a closet and bathroom and fully into the room where Mia stood by the king size bed. The look of surprise on her face was priceless, no doubt she had thought that he had shut the door before heading off to his own bedroom or where ever it was he disappeared to at night, but the uncertainty in her hazel eyes matched the own feelings inside himself. Guilt told him to stay away from Mia, but nothing else inside of him wanted to do so.

“Why?” Mia murmured once she recovered from the shock of seeing him there and found her voice. “Why are you here if you don't care?”

“Never said I didn't,” Daryl admitted, his words harsh in texture, but spoken as softly as her question had been towards him. When Mia recovered from looking as though she had been punched in the stomach, he nearly choked on his own feelings as he added, “Said it was best if we ain't together. Didn't say nothing about not caring.”

“Is it because of her?” Mia asked timidly as she nearly tore her hands to shreds with nervous fidgeting. “Because of your girlfriend that died?”

Of course she would have heard about Lily from the other members at the lodge. Hell, even he had heard the whispering when he walked into a room, the curious stares from newer members that had come along after the night he had failed Lily and let her be killed. So, Mia hearing about what happened was not unheard of, but knowing that she knew was an entirely different story. Frowning, he asked, “What do you know about it? About her?””

“Nothing, not really. I just know she died and you've been different since and that's why you won't stay here anymore,” Mia replied hastily, picking up on his irritation over her possibly knowing his deep, dark secret. She paused and studied him curiously, before adding, “That it hurts you too much to be here without her.”

And that was the truth, was it not? Guilt kept him from moving forward and living the life he could have, with or without Mia, but in the end it was the absence of the love he had finally allowed himself to have that caused the most heartache and kept him from the home and family he could have again if he just allow himself to heal from the loss of Lily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I never thought that this story would end up being this long. We are just a few hundred words away from 150K words and that is insane! I struggled with this chapter, but I think it ended up turning out okay. Let me know what you think!


	60. Chapter 60

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! A chapter! I do so apologize for being a week and a day late for this update and sincerely have to thank everyone from the bottom of my heart for their patience. I caught the flu last weekend and it morphed into pneumonia by mid-week, so I didn't even get a itch to write until early Saturday morning. Then, I took my flash drive to work to post Sunday night as per usual and the chapter wasn't on it! Thankfully, hubs checked my laptop at home and it was and I was able to swap it over to my flash drive this afternoon to post. Whew! So, anyway, thanks again for the patience!

_”I've lost my god damn mind,  
It happens all the time,  
I can't believe I'm actually  
Meant to be here,  
Trying to consume,  
The drug in me is you  
And I'm so high on misery  
Can't you see!"_

__

_Falling In Reverse "The Drug in Me is You"_

Mia's hands shook as she tried to light the oil lamp perched on the table beside her bed, which was shockingly due to the high levels of annoyance coursing through her veins from dealing with Daryl's infuriating ass and less to do with the weak, dizzy spells that kept plaguing her body. After a brief moment of cursing, she managed to get her hands to cooperate long enough to strike the match head against the ancient matchbook and placed against the oil soaked threaded wick long enough to produce a flame. Coaxing it ever so gingerly back into the port so it did not burn too bright or fast, Mia carefully replaced the thin glass globe on top of the base and allowed a breath she had not realized she was holding to escape.

Turning around with the intention of grabbing her pajamas from the dresser, Mia was shocked to find Daryl standing just inside the darkened hallway, ever so gently illuminated by the golden glow from the oil lamp. While she had issued a half-assed ultimatum about him standing guard over her himself, instead of waking up someone to do so, she certainly had not expected him to take her up on the offer. In fact, she honestly thought he would either leave her alone to go off to where ever it was Daryl disappeared to or go against her wishes and wake up Mae or Blake. Never in a million years had she thought he would be standing inside her bedroom waiting to keep vigil over her while she slept, especially since he had done his best to keep his distance from her for the past several weeks.

“Why?” Mia asked once she managed to push past the shock, although she doubted Daryl had actually heard her since her question was a barely discernible murmur. Finding her voice, she added a bit more audibly, “Why are you here if you don't care?”

“Never said I didn't,” Daryl finally admitted after a long pause, one long enough to make Mia squirm with awkward anticipation; the silence spreading from uncertainty to downright humiliation before he spoke. Of course, the answer he finally provided did nothing to alleviate the questions in her heart and only proceeded to add more to the downright befuddlement of his feelings towards her. As if she was not confused enough about what was going through Daryl's head, he added, “Said it was best if we ain't together. Didn't say nothing about not caring.”

“Is it because of her,” Mia asked, letting the question slip out without actually meaning to do so. Sure, she was curious about Daryl's deceased girlfriend, but he obviously did not want to talk about her since he had mentioned absolutely zip about her in the past couple of months that they had known one another. But, there she was, asking all the impossible questions, so she continued on in the hopes that she might find at least some of the answers she was obviously searching for at the moment. Swallowing the lump of nerves that suddenly bubbled up into her throat, she nervously added, “Because of your girlfriend that died?”

“What do you know about it? About her?” Daryl asked with a frown, the narrowing of his eyes and furrowing of his brow doing nothing to alleviate the nerves in the pit of Mia's stomach. Nope, the intensity of the glare that was focused on her at the moment only ratcheted up the anxiety inside of her a couple hundred notches.

“Nothing, not really. I just know she died and you've been different since and that's why you won't stay here anymore. That it hurts you too much to be here without her,” she replied hastily, halfway wishing she could rewind the past couple of minutes and shove all of her questions back down her throat. She rubbed the palms of her hands against her denim covered thighs, wiping away the nervous moisture that collected there grossly, and tried her best to rectify the situation. “It's hard, I know. I mean, I know how it feels.”

“You don't know shit about nothing,” Daryl grumbled, effectively cutting off her nervous rambling with the hardened steel of his voice. “You ain't got no clue how I feel about nothing.”

Mia blinked, taken back by the ferocity and anger in his words, wondering for a moment what in the hell she had actually done to warrant the level of emotion he was shoving at her, but then she realized...he was not mad at her, he was mad at himself. Had she actually used her head and thought about everything she had heard about Daryl since arriving at the lodge and combined it with what she had managed to glean from him during the time they lived together, she might have figured it out sooner. The 'it' obviously being why he did his best to keep her at arm's length, at why he refused to allow himself to be happy, or at least as happy as someone can be during times like these. Something clenched in her belly as they stood there in momentary silence and studied one another.

“I know what it feels like to hate being alive because the person you love isn't,” Mia finally said, breaking the cloying silence with her own guilt. Of course she understood what he was going through, how could she not? Not after Brian. Not after Micah. Her loss may not be the same, but it was loss any way you looked at it.

Blinking back the tears in her eyes, Mia took a timid step forward and continued, “I know how it feels to wake up every morning knowing I won't get to see the face of the person I love. I get the loss, Daryl. I know the guilt.” Mia shrugged and sniffled. “I know that pain, too.”

“They ain't dead because of you,” Daryl choked out, the pain at admitting his failure evident in the heartache shining in his own tear filled eyes. “It ain't your fault.”

“It’s not?” Mia asked softly, allowing her own guilt at her brother's death to surface painfully. “Micah killed himself because he knew I wouldn't leave him behind to come here. How is that not my fault, Daryl? And my husband? Hell, I don't even know if he's dead or alive. Did you know that? He was halfway around the world when shit fell apart and I never got a chance to talk to him again. I don't know if he's alive or not, and the last words I said to him were in anger. We were fighting because I didn't want him to re-up when he came home and he wasn't ready to not be a soldier anymore. I was mad at him for choosing the Army over me and hung up on him.” Mia paused, her body shaking as she tried to catch a breath to calm down as years of guilt came pouring out of her. With shaky hands, she hastily swiped away the tears on her cheeks before adding, “So yeah, Daryl, I understand guilt. It may not be the same as yours, but it’s guilt nonetheless and I carry it around like a damned weight every day.”

“She's dead because I failed her,” Daryl whispered, admitting his own shame over the sound of her sniffles as she tried to get her emotions under control. “Lily. I told her I'd keep her safe and I didn't. He found her and killed her and she died knowing I didn't keep my promise.”

“Did she love you?” Mia asked, clearly finding the least likely question to ask if Daryl's reaction was any indication.

“Yeah,” he replied slowly, a question mark hanging on the end of the drawn out response. “I think any how. Said she did.”

“And did she know you loved her?” Mia studied Daryl's face as he nodded his head in response to her second puzzling question. Clearing the space between them, Mia stood a hairsbreadth away from Daryl and said, “Then she died knowing you did everything you could to make her happy and as safe as you could. Unless you pulled the trigger or stabbed the knife or whatever, she knew you weren't responsible. She died knowing love and that's more than most people get.”

Tears fell freely down Daryl's cheeks, streaking through the patchy growth of hair and reddening the parts of his skin that showed through the scruff and melting Mia's heart in the process. Taking the final step towards him, Mia wrapped her arms around his center and pulled him tightly against her body as she sought out the same comfort from Daryl that she was offering him in her arms. His body was stiff at first, resistant to her body and touch and feelings, but slowly he relaxed into her hold. His arms snaked up from where he had his hands clenched tightly at his sides and grabbed hold of the material of her shirt at the base of her spine.

Mia tilted her head ever so slightly up and to the side, her lips searching for the touch they craved. Pressing her mouth softly against his, she murmured, “It hurts. I know, but she wouldn't want you to hurt this much if she loved you. She'd want you to be happy.”

In the beginning, she had wanted answers; wanted to know why he pushed her away and how he could it so easily. Then she had wanted to offer comfort. To help mend the hurting heart of someone she cared about, despite not wanting to feel anything for him. In the end, she somehow sparked a need so feral in its desire that it could not have been anticipated.

She tasted salt on his lips as he kissed her hungrily, but whose sadness it was would never be determined as her own tears coursed down her cheeks. Mia grunted with surprise when the tight grip Daryl had on the shirt at the base of her spine changed locations, sliding further down her body to grasp her ass roughly before pulling her against him, hitching her up his body so that she could wrap her legs around his waist.

In the back of her mind she knew that she should stop what they were about to do, that all Daryl was doing was avoiding the topic at hand and substituting sex in the place of dealing with his emotions, but Mia kept on kissing him instead of doing what was right. Because, in all honesty, was she not doing the same thing? It was easier to fall into bed, into one another's bodies, than it was to deal with the heartache and guilt. But, there was that nagging voice of responsibility in the back of her head that tried its best to get her to stop, that pointed out that she understood that she was filling the hole in her heart with sex and avoiding the topic at hand, but did Daryl fully understand that or the complications that could arise from falling into bed?

And she really would have stopped him, or rather, she had every intention on stopping him right up until the moment Daryl tossed her onto the bed and started stripping the clothes from her body like a crazed madman. It was, much to her chagrin, quite a fucking turn on to watch him savagely claim her body like a Neanderthal. So much so, that by the time he wrenched off her underwear and started to crawl up her body, Mia was drenched and beyond coherent with desire as she squirmed with need beneath him.

All reasonable thought had sufficiently left the room.

Grabbing hold of Daryl's shirt, Mia tugged on it and heard something tear before finally wrangling it from his body, before her eager hands started for the belt that was pressing almost painfully against her lower abdomen. While her hands may have been shaking earlier from anger or annoyance, they were shockingly steady now as she unhooked Daryl's belt and snatched it from the loops of his pants, tossing it to the floor a split second behind his shirt.

Daryl's breath was hot against her skin as his lips trailed hungrily down the slope of her neck and his teeth sharp against the skin of her throat when he bit down with a primal growl as he claimed what was undeniably his at that moment. Mia trembled beneath him as she tore at the button of his pants and dragged down the zipper before sliding a hand inside to take hold of the hot, hardened length of his cock. She savored the velvety touch of his skin, the warmth of it as it radiated against the palm of her hand and the slick feeling of his seed as she swirled the tip of her thumb over the top of its belled head. At that second, Mia was overcome with the desire to take him into her mouth, to feel the thickness of his cock pressing against the insides of her cheeks, to taste the saltiness of his skin against her tongue, but that need came in second to the throbbing ache between her legs.

Giving in to the need that consumed her, Mia situated his cock at her entrance and rubbed the head around the slick heat that lay there between her thighs. She relished the feel of his cock teasing the sensitive skin of her folds, sliding over the nub that nestled there and eliciting delicious sounds of desire from Daryl's throat as she teased him mercilessly, before finally giving them both what they wanted and easing his cock deep inside of her.

Her head tilted back as she let loose a long moan of arousal at the feel of Daryl's cock seated fully inside of her for one blissful moment, before he slipped out and slammed back in turned that low moan into a full bodied cry of desire. He grunted as he pounded into her, his breath hot on her neck as he panted with each push and pull of his hips. One hand wound into her hair and tugged, pulling her head back to fully expose her throat to his mouth as he bit down hard enough to leave a mark, and Mia was surprised to feel a flood of warmth between her legs at his ferocity. Groaning deep in her throat, she dug her fingernails into the dip of his hips and spread her legs wider to allow him deeper access, taking him in to the point that it bordered on painful, but pleasure swept in and left nothing but bliss in its wake as she tried her best to bite back the scream of release that could barely be contained.

Shaking in his arms, Mia panted beneath Daryl's spent body as her mind quickly pushed past the pleasure and started wondering what would happen next; fully expecting him to do a fuck and dash to escape the conversation they had been having prior to the sex. However, further proving that he was an enigma that she had yet to figure out, Daryl crawled off of her long enough to pull her up the bed and snatch back the covers, before claiming her body once again as his.

Of course, when the light of day peeked into the room the next morning and spread its golden beams onto the bed that was empty beside her, Mia realized that maybe she did know Daryl a little better than what she realized, because deep down she knew that he would inevitably run and hide.


	61. Chapter 61

_“I’m here again,_  
A thousand miles away from you.  
A broken mess, just scattered pieces of who I am.  
I tried so hard,  
Thought I could do this on my own.  
I’ve lost so much along the way.” 

__

Red “Pieces”

The moon hung low enough in the sky to filter through the gauzy curtains and fall onto the disheveled bed with a golden glow, illuminating Mia as she slept beside him. The majority of her body was uncovered enough that he could easily see the colorful drawings that covered her arms and parts of her back and his fingers itched to trace ink that ran down the side of her torso closest to him. Her lips parted slightly as she slept, the warmth of her breathe caressed his own naked flesh as she snuggled closer to him and whimpered ever so softly, the sound caused his heart to clench with emotion that his brain did not want.

Shadows flickered around the room as the oil lamp beside the bed continued to burn and while Daryl hated to snuff out the flame that allowed him to study Mia closer while she slept, logic told him to turn the knob and depress the wick so that the flame died out and conserved the oil that would be needed another night. The room darkened significantly, but not so much so that he was not able to watch a subtle smile tug at the corners of Mia's luscious mouth and he wondered what she was dreaming about and if maybe it was of him.

Caught between a war between his emotions and the guilt that was slowly eating him alive, Daryl laid in the bed beside Mia and soaked in the sight of her. While she was not a great beauty, there was something about her features that kept her from being plain. The shoulder length brown hair would have been considered mousy if not for the golden highlights that hours of swimming in the sun had brought out. Her top lip bordered on too thin, but the bottom lip was full and sensual, drawing his own lips in like a moth to a flame. Her brows were too dark, far darker than her chestnut hair, but the color complimented her hazel eyes perfectly, and her high cheekbones and button nose completed the package. The features by themselves were nothing to write home about, but it was the light that her smile put into her eyes that brought out the beauty that one might miss otherwise.

Her looks, when combined with her strong will and unrelenting sense of duty, the fierceness she held that rivaled a lioness and the softness of her heart that she only allowed a chosen few to see, was what really drew him to her. Looks were easy to come by, but loyalty, respect and strength were earned and Mia had them in spades. He itched to hold her when she was near and ached to be with her when she was not, and his affection for her grew with each passing day and giving in to his desire did nothing to sate Daryl's need for Mia, which did nothing to alleviate the guilt that ate away at him from the inside out. The more he was around her, the more he wanted her; wanted to touch her, love her, inhale her and consume her.

But, Daryl knew that allowing himself to give into his wants and needs would inevitably lead to her demise. He would break her down, eat her alive and leave her for dead; figuratively and literally. He could not be trusted to keep her safe, to live up to his promises and not fail her, but it was getting more and more difficult to stay away from her and somehow, he had to find the inner strength to do so. It was that realization that had Daryl reaching for the pants that lay in a crumbled lump with the rest of his clothes on the floor by the bed.

“Stay,” Mia mumbled, her voice thick with sleep as she reached for him. Her hand was warm against his back as she gently stroked her palm over him as he leaned down to grab his clothes, and even that simple contact had his will power crumbling.

Glancing over his shoulder, Daryl studied Mia in the moonlight and realized that she had not fully woke up and was floating somewhere between reality and dreams as she reached for him. His resistance faltered, but he somehow managed to force his hands to pull on the crumbled pants and shove his feet into his boots, before pulling on the button up shirt that had fallen prey to hurried hands and had lost a button or three when Mia was helping him undress. Doing up the remaining buttons as best as he could, Daryl paused by the edge of the bed for a moment before leaning down to brush a feather light kiss to Mia's cheek.

“I'm sorry,” he murmured, so softly that he barely even heard the words. Standing up, he squeezed his eyes shut tightly and forced himself to turn away from Mia's bed and head down the tiny, darkened hallway towards the door.

Daylight was hours away, but Daryl knew that sleep was an elusive creature that would not be found that night. Instead, he clamored down the stairs towards the kitchen to grab enough food to satiate his hunger before heading out into the dark of night. If sleep was not going to happen, then it was better to grab his crossbow and head out into the woods to the only place he ever felt at ease and hunt down food for his family.

Three days passed before anyone outside those at the meat processing area saw him again, having only stopped by either at dawn or dusk to unload whatever creatures he managed to kill during the day. Many people relied on therapy to help them work out their conflicted emotions, but not Daryl Dixon. Nope, he allowed nature to soothe his woes and help him figure out what course of action to take, usually in regards to survival, but more often than not the past few years, it had helped him in matters of the heart. By the time he returned to the lodge, a doe perched over his weary shoulders, Daryl knew what he had to do.

Nerves coiled deep in his belly as he approached the glass doors that led from the pool area into the lodge. Judging by the lack of activity outside, he gathered that everyone was inside eating breakfast and while he was famished, he marched straight past the kitchen doors and headed towards the conference room to gather the supplies he needed. Unfortunately, his original assumption that everyone was busy in the restaurant had been wrong and he walked straight into a confrontation that he had not planned on and did not want.

“Thought you'd left again,” Rick said with a frown on his face as he pilfered through a selection of clothing hung in orderly fashion on a rolling rack. The room that held all of their clothing had grown since he had left the first time, but the organization that Lily had worked so hard on before her death remained.

“Hunting,” Daryl muttered, heading straight towards a table filled with stacks of pants. Keeping his head down, he started searching for something that would fit, but Rick read his actions quickly and correctly, the downfall of having a friend that could read you like a book.

“You're not staying though, are you?” Rick asked with a frustrated sigh. “I told Carol that I was going to stay out of it, that it was none of my business and you'd come home to stay when you were ready, but that's not true, is it?”

Silent, Daryl quit searching through the clothes, but did not look up or answer his friend's questions. How could he, when he did not even know the answer for himself? He wanted to come home, wanted to return to his friends and family and fall back into the routine he'd had back years ago before finding Lily in the woods. He just did not know how, and had no idea how to go about asking for the help he needed to do so. Instead, he tucked tail and ran and that alone caused him to shrink in shame. Running had never been in his forte. He had always stayed and fought, no matter what the issue was, what big bad was looming on the horizon ready to take him down, but the troubled waters he was treading in now was unrecognizable and he did not know how to deal with it.

“What's the plan this time? You got more people to rescue or do you just want out of here?” Rick asked, pushing past Daryl's obvious reluctance to talk, but was only rewarded with a shrug of shoulders and more silence. There was a heavy sigh of annoyance, before Rick added, “If you just don't want to be here, I have a proposition for you. If you're interested, that is.”

Intrigued, Daryl finally glanced up, shoved his dirty hair out of his eyes and met Rick's stare. “Yeah?” he asked, nervously gnawing on the inside of his lip as he waited for his friend's offer.

“We've got a run, the last one before winter. Normally it'd be Glenn's turn, especially with what we're doing, but he doesn't need to go with Maggie this close to giving birth. Thought I'd take the lead this time, but it's been a long time since I went past the walls. I could use a wing man, someone I trust,” Rick paused and studied Daryl intently, before adding, “That's you, if you want it.”

Eagerly accepting the valid excuse for leaving the lodge, Daryl nodded without considering what the task entailed. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he eyeballed Rick, taking in the overall softness in his appearance. It was not a literal softness, as Rick was just as lean and fit as he had been before the lodge, but there was a softness to him that the lodge in itself had provided. The safety of the walls and weapons, the guards and sheer number of people at their disposal, and finally, what Michonne's love had bestowed him. Daryl allowed the smile at the corner of his mouth to grow wider as he chuckled and said, “Guess I got to go. Hell, you ain't been outside the walls in so long you ain't got no clue what you're dealing with.”

“I'd be pissed by that remark if it wasn't true,” Rick replied with a grim expression, but the twinkle in his eyes let Daryl know that he had not offended his friend too terribly much. “We leave in an hour, don't reckon you'll have trouble being ready by then?”

“Why'd no one say nothing about this earlier? I ain't heard shit about no trip,” Daryl asked, only slightly annoyed that he was so far out of the loop in regards to matters of the lodge and supplies. There was once a time he had been on the committee and a part of decisions such as security and trips, but that was a long time ago and clearly nothing they wanted him to have a hand in anymore.

“Told them not to,” Rick admitted truthfully, “Didn't want to give you a reason to leave again, but since you were going to anyway, figured this would be a better option. Least this way, I know where you are and what you're doing. Better chances at getting you home in one piece this way.”

Daryl nodded in understanding and continued, “What's the plan? Where we headed?”

“South Carolina, over near Columbia,” Rick answered as he returned to the clothing rack in search of items to pack in the bag by his feet that Daryl noticed as he moved closer. “We took in two guys about a month ago that came from that way. One ended up injured, fell down a ravine and messed up his knee and a scavenging group found them holed up over by Athens. They got a pretty large group with crops, a good bit of peanuts and soybeans, that we're gonna see about trading. Our cotton and corn crops are doing well enough that we could set up an arrangement.”

“But we ain't got a clue if they're gonna go for it or not? No idea what type of people we're dealing with?” Daryl asked as he grabbed a new backpack off the floor beneath the table of boots and shoes. Shoving in a tightly rolled pair of pants, shirts and socks, he studied the racks of clothes and wondered what else he might need, the changing of seasons was looming on the horizon and the south was not known for its predictable fall or winter weather. “How you know we can trust 'em, these guys?”

“Same way we trusted the Greene's. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst,” Rick replied with a deadpanned expression. “Got Abe added to the group and a few others that I trust, ones that came while you were gone. We've got a plan, we'll stick to it as best as we can.” Rick bent down to stuff the folded clothes in his hands into his bag and zipped it up. “Pack the essentials, clothes and extra ammo, bolts for your crossbow. Food and first aid supplies are already packed. We got a trailer with a few crates of crops for the initial trade, a couple of horses ready to go. It'll take a solid week or more to get there. We'll hang back and assess, send in Brad and Deshawn, then go from there. Maybe a week or two there, depends on the situation, a week home. Shouldn't take us more than a month, but you know how things go on the road. Plans fall apart quickly when dealing with another group. Go shower, grab something to eat and get whatever you need, then meet in the lobby.”

After Rick left the room, Daryl added another pair of socks and pants to the bag, figuring he had extra room if the other supplies were on the trailer and did not have to be squeezed in the pack, too, and grabbed enough clothes to change into after a much needed shower. Then, satisfied with what he had clothing-wise, he stopped by the weapons room and shoved a box of .38 caliber ammo to the front pouch and grabbed a few bolts and extra bow string for his crossbow before heading towards the outdoor showers.

Scrubbed clean and dressed, he tossed his dirty clothes into the basket of soiled clothing by the wash bins outside and headed towards the kitchen, grabbing a handful of deer jerky, a bottle of water and a roll off the counter in the empty room. Scarfing down the items as he walked, he chugged a half the bottle of water before the end of the hallway and turned the bottle up to polish it off and nearly choked on the liquid when Mia stepped out of the lobby, effectively cutting off his nearly perfect escape from the lodge.

“We need to talk,” she said with an edge to her voice that clearly said she would not take no for an answer. Daryl barely had a chance to argue, when she circled her hand around his bicep and all but dragged him into a nearby office. What looked like fear glimmered in her eyes as she stared at him, before she finally opened her mouth to speak, but Daryl cut her off before she could barely utter half a syllable.

“I ain't got time for this,” Daryl said, as he tried his best to make a hasty retreat. “They're waiting on me in the lobby.”

“You have time. They're not ready to go just yet, something to do with the trailer,” Mia replied, sufficiently ruining his perfect excuse to leave. “I...I'm...shit,” she muttered, stumbling over her words. Growling with frustration, she finally bit out, “You're an asshole, you know that? You make me want you, make me give in and then disappear for three fucking days? I didn't know if you were dead or just gone, I didn't know what was going on! You can't do that to someone, Daryl. It's just, well, it's just a damned asshole move.

Look, I get it. You've got issues, but who doesn't? You still love her, that's understandable, but that doesn't give you a damned bit of right to use that as an excuse to treat me like shit whenever you feel bad for whatever keeps going on between us. I'm right here, Daryl. I'm here and yet, you're in love with a ghost! Someone you can't have no matter how much you want her.” Mia paused and took a deep, shaky breath, as though trying her best to keep from crying. Which, Daryl prayed, would not happen, because his resolve to not reach out and take her in his arms would crumble to pieces if she started crying. After a brief pause, she shook her head and added softly, “It's a hard thing to do, moving on, but at some point you have to stop living in the past. Hell, I'm trying my best to do the same thing, Daryl. Can't you just give me the chance and move on with me?”

“Move on?” Daryl scoffed, instantly angered by her insane logic of not living in the past anymore, when right there on her left hand was a shiny symbol of just how far in the past she was still living. Closing the gap between them, Daryl grabbed hold of Mia's left hand and pulled it up between them and growled, “Don't lecture me 'bout living in the past, sweetheart. Not when you've been fucking me with your goddamn wedding ring on.”

What look like shock filled Mia's face as she studied the ring on her hand and she stammered as she tried her best to get the words out to no doubt explain how it was okay for her to still wear a reminder of her marriage and yet, lecture him on moving on and getting over the woman he loved and failed. He'd be damned if he was going to stand there and let Mia lecture him when she was incapable of following her own advice about leaving the past in the past.

Daryl dropped Mia's hand, more so a forceful shove to get the wedding ring out of his sight, and said, “I ain't got time for this shit.” Without bothering to wait for an explanation or apology from Mia, he turned on his heel and stormed from the office, slamming the door so forcefully behind him that he never heard Mia's whispered words as he left her behind.


	62. Chapter 62

_“You touch me  
And I can barely make a move  
And I can’t breathe.  
You can never know what it is you do to me.  
I can’t take what you’re doing to me.  
No matter what I say or what I do,  
I know how this will end.  
So I am turning away now, before we  
Begin.”_

__

In This Moment “The Promise” 

Sunlight streamed through the slit between the two curtains that covered the large window beside Mia's bed and shone intensely on her face, unpleasantly waking her up far earlier than she would have liked. Groaning, she rolled over, fully prepared to complain about the intrusion to the other person in the room and found the bed empty. Although she had fully expected Daryl to bolt at the first chance, she could not help the sting of hurt feelings at the sight of the rumpled sheets he had left behind.

Stretching out one arm, Mia ran the palm of her hand over the space he had occupied only a few hours earlier and sighed. She hated that she had let him in, had fallen straight into his arms without question and laid her feelings out on the proverbial table, only to be brushed aside once more. Daryl's hot and cold running feelings were getting old, but damn if she would not crawl back into his arms if he opened them to her, and that realization alone was enough to have Mia crawling out of bed to find the son of a bitch and give him a piece of her mind. It was fine if he did not want her now that they were back at the lodge among his friends and family, but ignoring her for days and then fucking her six ways from Sunday, only to slink out of the room like a coward while she slept was unacceptable.

After scrubbing her face and slapping her hair in a messy bun, Mia slipped on her obligatory jeans and tank top, crammed her feet into the ratty hiking boots by the bed and out of the room in search Daryl, fully prepared to let him know just how much she did not appreciate waking up alone. Unfortunately, a thorough search of the lodge and the grounds produced nothing in the way of Daryl Dixon; not hide nor hair. Incensed, Mia held back a frustrated scream as she stood just outside of the kitchen on the back porch and scanned the wood line for her target.

“Morning, Mia,” Blake said, startling Mia as she glared at the woods and dared Daryl to poke his head out from behind a tree. Glancing over her shoulder, she took in her friend’s cheerful expression and growled in return. “What's eating you this morning?”

“Men,” she snarled in return with a scowl marring her face. Whipping around to face her unsuspecting target, Mia asked, “Does it come standard with having a penis? Are you people just hard wired to act like jackasses all the time, or is it something you learn in school?”

“Whoa, slow your roll, lady,” Blake replied with an offended look. He held his hands up in front of him and continued, “I'd wave my white flag in surrender, but I left it upstairs. Judging by the mood, I assume you finally made contact with Daryl? Did he finally tell you why he's been avoiding you?”

“In a matter of words,” Mia huffed out, not cluing her friend in on what had developed between her and Daryl in her bedroom the night before. Blake was a smart man, he could put two and two together and get four just about every time, and there was no point in explaining every little detail to him. “I still have a few things I need to get off my chest though. You haven't seen him lurking around have you?”

“Nope. He wasn't at breakfast either,” Blake said with a mischievous twinkle to his eye. “Since you weren't there either, I had sort of hoped that the two of you were off making up somewhere. But, judging from the sour puss thing you've got going on, I was obviously wrong.”

“Yeah, no, we definitely did not make up.” Mia frowned and glared out at the woods once more, before turning towards the back door. While she had clearly needed the extra sleep that morning, skipping breakfast had not been the best idea when she had been too nauseous to eat dinner the night before. And, come to think of it, she had not felt all that great at lunch either and had only nibbled on a roll and small serving of roasted potatoes. Thinking back, she honestly could not recall the last time she had eaten much more than a few bites at any meal since coming to the lodge.

At the thought of food, her stomach managed to rumble with hunger and somehow roil with nausea at the same time. Nodding towards the lodge, she said to Blake, “I'm going to see if there's anything to snack on to hold me over until lunch. Where are you headed?”

“Finally got my job assignment,” Blake said with a less than pleased expression. “Yard cleanup. I'm supposed to be there by now.”

“That sounds unpleasant, but look on the bright side, it could be something really gross like gutting animals or cleaning up poop or something.” Mia tried her best to plaster on a reassuring smile, but the thought of doing anything of the things she mentioned caused her stomach to flip flop and worsen the already present nausea. After taking a slow, deep breath to abate the nauseous feeling, then said, “Well, have fun and sorry for accusing you of being like every other asshole man.”

Once Blake wandered off towards his day job, Mia headed inside and tracked down a small snack of bread and an apple, before making her way towards the makeshift library that had been thrown together over the years. She was supposed to start teaching a class to a small group of children and wanted to get together at least some type of lesson plan. Rick had pushed back her start date until she started feeling better, but with the way things were going with her health, if they waited for the day she started feeling well enough to teach they would never actually start.

Locating the conference room where all the books were stored, Mia was surprised to find so many collected there. Piles upon piles and stacks upon stacks of books, both hardcover and paperback, were lined up on tables and a handful of shelves along the back wall, and there were even some stacked up on the floor along the walls. At first, the task of finding what she was looking for was beyond daunting, until she realized that the unorganized appearance was a facade and they were actually organized alphabetically and according to genre.

Hours were spent searching through the books, crawling around on the floor and searching through the piles, until she found a nice selection to not only teach the kids about, but to read in her free time. Mia was pleased with the stack of books she piled up by the door and stood up from the floor to head over and gather them up to take to her room, when a wave of dizziness washed over her and the measly snack of carbs and fruit threatened to make a return appearance. Leaving the books by the door, she stumbled towards the side entrance for some fresh air, but found the door to the outside locked and vaguely recalled someone mentioning that the majority of exit doors were kept that way for safety. Groaning, Mia forced back the vomit that desperately wanted to make its way out of her stomach and darted towards the nearest open entrance, barely making it out the door before she doubled over and barfed like a drunk who had just performed too many keg stands.

“Ma'am, are you okay?” A voice came from just in front of her, but from Mia's current bent over stance all she could see was the grass that was colored with her vomit.

Glancing up, she spied what had to be the most handsome man she had laid her eyes on in a long time and there she was, horking up her breakfast over the edge of the lodge patio. Tall, well built with what looked like the physique of the Thor version of a Ken doll, with thick dark blonde hair pulled up in a man-bun, which should look ridiculous, but somehow looked quite nice on him, a well maintained beard and high cheekbones. Under his watchful eye, Mia blushed profusely with embarrassment at being caught in such an unappealing position. Gingerly, she stood up and wiped the back of her hand over her mouth and chin in hopes that she did not have any clumps of partially digested food clinging to her skin and said, “Yeah, I'm okay. Just ate something that didn't agree with me.”

“I hope you don't find me rude for saying, but you don't look well. Maybe you should make a trip to the infirmary to get checked out?” The good-looking stranger said, his words tinted with a hint of a Yankee accent, as though he had left one of the northern states during childhood, but his heritage refused to disappear.

“What are you? A doctor?” Mia replied with more bite than she had intended, instantly feeling a twinge of guilt at snapping at the concerned man for no reason than she was just in a crabby mood. “I'm sorry, that was uncalled for.”

“I am, actually,” he said with a thousand watt smile, and explained when she simply stared at him. “A doctor. I am actually a doctor. A veterinarian, but a doctor nonetheless. I'm Aiden, by the way. Aiden Clark.”

“Nice to meet you, Dr. Clark,” Mia replied with a half-assed attempt at a pleasant smile. Accepting the hand he offered, remembering at the last minute to not use the hand she wiped the puke away from her mouth with, she introduced herself, “I'm Mia Carter.”

“Yes, one of the new members. I've heard you'll be teaching Literature to the kids. I'm sure they'll enjoy that,” Aiden replied with a smile that was far more welcoming than the one she had offered him.

“Right, because little kids love to sit around and discuss books,” Mia said with a chuckle, half a second before another wave of dizziness swarmed her and sent her in an off balance tumble straight into Aiden's perfectly sculpted arms, which caught her before she careened off the side of the landing.

“Like I said, you need to see the doctor,” Aiden pointed out with a bland look, successfully keeping the sarcasm out of his voice, despite the fact that the situation called for it.

“I think you might be right,” Mia regretfully admitted as she allowed him to steer her towards the entrance in the direction of the office to where Hank Allen's clinic was set up.

Saying goodbye and thank you to Aiden at the door to Doc Allen's office, Mia knocked on the lacquered wood and waited for permission to enter before opening it. She poked her head in and found the doctor sitting behind his desk with a book open before him and asked, “Are you busy?”

“Not at all, just doing some reading. Come on in,” Doc Allen replied as he marked his spot in his book, something to do with surgical procedures judging by what she could see of the title, and stood up. “I take it you aren't feeling any better?”

“Honestly? No. The dizziness is getting worse and I keep getting sick to my stomach, even though I'm hungry I just can't eat much,” Mia answered as she crawled up onto the makeshift exam table and faced the doctor. “Do you think it's still the head injury or could something else be wrong?”

“Without the proper equipment for scans, I can't say for sure it's not a brain injury, but-” Doc Allen paused and pushed the bridge of his glasses back up his nose and studied her briefly before continuing, “And you've never had an issue with fainting before the last few weeks?”

When she shook her head from side to side, he continued, “What about pregnancy? That could cause some issues with morning sickness, the dizziness could be from not eating enough or low iron. Obviously stress plays into the problem some.”

“No, there's not a chance of that,” Mia replied wistfully. “It's got to be something else.”

“Are you sure? When was your last menstrual cycle?” Doc Allen continued, eyeballing Mia with a curious expression behind his glasses.

“It was-” Mia started, pausing when she realized that she couldn't recall having one in the past couple of months. Mentally calculating the last time she'd had her period, she said, “Actually, I don't think I've had one in about two months, but I've been under a lot of stress. Can't that cause someone to miss it?”

“Yes, sometimes, but it could also mean you're pregnant.” Doc Allen made a notation on a sheet of paper in the spiral bound notebook in his hand, one that Mia had seen her name printed on the outer cover. Glancing up at her over the rim of his glasses, he pressed his lips into a tight line before asking, “And that may very well be the reason if you've not had intercourse recently.”

“I have, but I don't think that has anything to do with the way I'm feeling,” Mia sighed and blinked away the tears that suddenly stung in her eyes. “I, uh, can't get pregnant. We- my husband and I- tried for years, but it never happened. I had a miscarriage shortly after we got married, about thirteen years ago, and after that it never happened again. My doctor said my uterus was a hostile environment and killed any sperm before they could fertilize my eggs. So, no, I'm not pregnant. I've tried and failed enough to know that's not a possibility.”

“I'd like to get a cervical exam, just to rule it out completely,” Hank replied, holding up a hand to silence Mia's arguments before they even began. “I understand you've had problems in the past, but things can change in a person's body. Our environment has changed, less chemicals, no cell phones, more fruits and vegetables. We've got a healthier lifestyle now, despite the changes that have occurred in our daily life and, of course, the reanimation of the dead, and I fully believe that could cause changes to our health.”

“You really think so? That I could be pregnant?” Mia asked, letting her hopes get up, despite having her heart broken time and time again with negative results.

“I think it's possible. We should rule it out at the very least,” Hank replied, jotting down something in his notebook once more, before standing up to lay it back on his pristine, almost obsessively organized desk. Perching one hip on the edge, he crossed his arms over his chest and said, “If you're okay with going forward with a cervical exam, I'll need to track down Myra Thornton. She was a Nurse Practitioner before the outbreak at a gynecologist's office over in Atlanta and helps out with exams and births, since my specialty was in emergency medicine.”

Nodding her head, Mia said, “Sure, um...might as well check, I guess. Would it be today?”

“Soon as I can get Myra freed up, she helps out in the kitchen when she can.” Hank pushed off the desk and headed towards the door. “If you want to wait here, I'll be right back.”

As if she had anywhere else to go, Mia opted to wait in the office, perched on the exam table with a stomach full of nervous anxiety over the possibility that there was something more growing in her belly. After suffering a miscarriage at the young age of twenty, and suffering through the next five years of heartbreaking failure at the sight of each negative test, she had discarded all hope that she could ever have a child grow in her belly. However, hearing the doctor say that there was even the slightest chance that she could be pregnant had reignited that long lost hope, even though she knew better than to allow it. She fucking knew better, but damned if she was not sitting there, on that hotel bed, with her hand flattened against her tummy with a silly grin on her face at the sliver of a chance that she and Daryl had created a baby together.

Lost in thought, Mia nearly jumped out of her skin when the door opened suddenly. Dropping her hand from her stomach, she grasped the edge of the bed as Doc Allen and a dark haired, middle aged woman stepped into the room. After a round of introductions, Mia nervously laid on the bed with a sheet clutched around her torso in a vain attempt to shield herself from the strangers poking at her nether regions and held her breath during the examination.

“Okay, Mia, you can go ahead and get dressed. We'll be right outside, just open the door when you're ready for us to come back in,” Myra said when she poked her head up from between Mia's legs.

Hastily, Mia pulled on her clothes and, eager to find out what the nurse thought, opened the door before bothering to put her boots back on. Wide eyed with anticipation, and sick to her stomach with nervousness, she sat down and waited while the nurse and doctor settled back into their respective chairs. “Well? What's the prognosis?” she asked after several nerve wracking moments of silence.

“It'd be easier to give you a guaranteed answer with a urine test or blood work this early in the game, after doing a pelvic exam I can say with a fair amount of certainty that you are pregnant,” Myra said with a smile, pausing for a moment to let the information sink in, before continuing, “Now, I'm not giving you a one hundred percent positive answer, due to you not being too far along if you are in fact pregnant, as well as the lack of proper testing supplies. But, I will say that I have yet to be wrong since I came to the lodge. So, by my best guess, I'd say you're about six to eight weeks pregnant, does that sound right?”

Dumbfounded, and also bordering on the edge of utter giddiness, Mia did her best to mentally calculate how long it had been since she and Daryl had started having sex. When she put the nurse's calculation of how far along she was, Mia realized that she most likely got pregnant the first time they'd had sex on the back porch. Nodding, Mia said, “Yes, ma'am, that seems about right.”

“Okay, well, at this point there's not really much to do. We'll just keep an eye on the situation, especially since you have a history of miscarriage, even though it's been quite some time since that happened. As of right now, we'll say light work duty since you're experiencing dizziness and check in with either me or Dr. Allen if you start having any other issues or if the ones your having get worse.” Myra looked down at the notebook in her lap, scribbled a note, and added, “Feel free to find one of us if you have any concerns, too.”

“And, try to not worry too much,” Doc Allen added in, accepting the notebook back from Myra and placing it on his desk. “We've had many successful births around here. It's not easy, with the lack of equipment and no access to epidurals, which means you need to practice your breathing with one of the other women on sight that have experience in Lamaze. Just try your best to keep your stress levels down.”

“Make sure the daddy pampers you,” Myra said with a mischievous grin, not realizing that the father in question barely had anything to do with the mommy. “Tell him to do all the heavy lifting and maybe squeeze in some massages before bed. It's for the good of the baby, after all.”

Mia barely managed to bark out a squeak in response to the nurse's comments and certainly did not bother to correct her in her assumptions about the father having anything to do with mommy during the pregnancy, because he certainly was not all that active in the pathetic excuse of a 'relationship' they were in. Not that what was going on between her and Daryl could really be called a relationship. Hell, they were not even really friends, much less anything more than fuck buddies.

But, regardless of their standing, he at least deserved to know that she was pregnant. It did not matter how they felt about one another, Daryl needed to know he was going to be a father and the baby they were having certainly deserved to have a father in its life. So, with her heart on her sleeve and a bucket load of butterflies in her stomach, Mia left the doctor's office and went down the hallway in search of the unsuspecting father in law.

Unfortunately, she did not find him, not that she really expected that she would, as the man was good at being scarce. Over the course of the next few days, she would have thought he had disappeared off the face of the damned earth, had it not been for the deer and other woodland creatures that apparently appeared at the processing center sometimes twice a day. She obviously would not have thought anything about the sudden abundance of meat that seemingly appeared as if out of nowhere, had word not gotten around that Daryl was responsible for the carcasses.

By day three of Daryl's absence, Mia's concern for him had morphed from worry to downright anger, which kept her stress levels high enough that she was not sleeping well and therefor, made the anger even worse. Incensed after yet another night of tossing and turning, followed by a morning of retching over a pail, she finally wandered downstairs in search of something to eat, despite the fact that breakfast was likely long since over. Luckily, she was not the only pregnant woman at the lodge and the kitchen crew did a fantastic job at keeping snacks on hand for when cravings struck, or in the case of Mia, when the morning sickness subsided long enough to eat.  
As she descended the last flight of stairs, she saw a throng of people in the lobby, arms laden with boxes of supplies and weapons, heading out the front door. Through the open double door she saw two horses hooked to a trailer that was partially loaded with crates of vegetables and other supplies.

Curious, Mia headed over to where Maggie and her husband, Glenn, were standing with their son and asked, “What's going on? Did a group just get back?”

“Heading out,” Maggie said, one hand on her rotund belly and the other pressed to her lower back. “They're heading over to South Carolina to another group to see about setting up a trade caravan, they're just working out some issue with the trailer. Well, that and waiting on Daryl.”

“Glad he came back in time to take my spot,” Glenn chimed in as he switched their son from one hip to the other. “I can't believe Rick's going, it’s been a long time since he’s been out past the gate, but at least he's got Daryl to help out.”

“Daryl's leaving?” Mia asked sharply, her attention instantly drawn away from the group in front of her. “Do you know where he is?”

“Rick said he was cleaning up before they headed out,” Maggie replied. “I assume that means he's taking a shower, but I'm not certain. You could check out back though.”

Without bothering to say goodbye, Mia turned on her heel and tore out of the lobby in the direction of the side door that would take her to the showers outside. She had barely turned down the hallway, when the kitchen door opened and Daryl stepped out into the hallway and every ounce of angry bravado that fueled her search for him drained from her body to be replaced by uncertainty and fear. What was he going to say when she told him? Would he even want to be involved? Would he even care? Plagued by the questions suddenly running through her head, Mia second guessed herself and faltered, before she mentally forced her big girl panties back on and said, “We need to talk.”

“I ain't got time for this,” Daryl barked out after she dragged him into a nearby office to have the conversation in private, she did not even have a chance to get a word in edgewise. “They're waiting on me in the lobby.”

“You have time. They're not ready to go just yet, something to do with the trailer,” Mia informed him, finally managing to find her voice for a half a second, although it went right back out the window when it came to getting around to why she needed to talk to him. “I...I'm...shit,” she muttered, not knowing exactly how to go about telling him she was pregnant. The words were on the tip of her tongue, but the thought of actually telling him scared the shit out of her. What did she truly expect from him? Did she even really know what she wanted? And, if she was honest with herself, did she really want him to stay out of an obligation to the baby or because he loved her and wanted to be a family?

The more she thought about it, and took in the disgruntled glare emanating from Daryl, the more Mia realized the answer to the last question on her mind. She wanted him to stay with her because he wanted to be with her, not because he felt he needed to stay with her because of the baby they had created. It was probably selfish, but she knew that she could raise the baby without him, she had Mae and Blake to help her when needed. What she wanted was a partner, someone to love and grow old together. It was nothing but wishful thinking, but one could not control what the heart wanted and Mia's heart wanted Daryl's love, not his obligation.

“You're an asshole, you know that?” Mia finally said, her voice roughened by the angry tears she refused to shed, simply because she did not want Daryl to mistake them for sadness. Growling, she continued, “You make me want you, make me give in and then disappear for three fucking days? I didn't know if you were dead or just gone, I didn't know what was going on! You can't do that to someone, Daryl. It's just, well, it's just a damned asshole move.”

Mia paused to draw in a shaky breath and tried her best to calm down and talk to Daryl rationally. “Look, I get it. You've got issues, but who doesn't? You still love her, that's understandable, but that doesn't give you a damned bit of right to use that as an excuse to treat me like shit whenever you feel bad for whatever keeps going on between us.” Pausing, Mia struggled to keep her anger in check, knowing that Daryl did not handle confrontation well, especially when done in anger, but damned if that helped. Instead, she balled her hands at her side and only barely managed to keep her voice below a scream when she said, “I'm right here, Daryl. I'm here and yet, you're in love with a ghost! Someone you can't have no matter how much you want her. It's a hard thing to do, moving on, but at some point you have to stop living in the past. Hell, I'm trying my best to do the same thing, Daryl. Can't you just give me the chance and move on with me?”

“Move on?” Daryl snarled, a look of pure outrage plastered across his face as he stalked towards her and closed the gap between them, She jumped, startled at the sudden move, when his hand darted out and grabbed hold of her left hand, sharply pulling it up between them and growled, “Don't lecture me 'bout living in the past, sweetheart. Not when you've been fucking me with your goddamn wedding ring on.”

She was shocked and confused at first, her brain not quite processing what he was talking about at first, but then her eyes registered what it was he was talking about. Mia stammered, trying her best to figure out what to say in order to explain that she had worn the ring every day since she had gotten married at nineteen years old, that it was such a part of her now that she honestly did not realize she was wearing it on most days. But, if she was honest with herself, the slender golden band was the last tie she had to her marriage with Brian and that was part of the reluctance to take it off, regardless of if she remembered she had it on most days or not.

Before she could get even the thinnest of excuses out, Daryl dropped her hand, or rather shoved it forcefully out of his own in order to get the offending wedding band out of his sight and snarled, “I ain't got time for this shit.”

Shaken to her core, Mia's heart pleaded for her to call out to Daryl and beg him not to go, but all she could manage as he stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind him was to utter the words she had originally intended to say to him. As she stared in silence at the door he had just exited, she whispered the words she had not been ready to say to him just moments before, “I’m pregnant. Don’t go.”


	63. Chapter 63

__

_PART FIVE_

_“I had you in my grip, but you’re starting to slip._  
Bring out the worst in me.  
And now it’s come to end, I think I’m giving in.  
You set my demons free.”

__

Bad Omens “Worst in Me”

Inside the cabin, the fire crackled in the stone fireplace as their dinner bubbled away in a cast iron pot precariously perched on top of a delicately balanced stacked set of burning logs. Inside the pot they had found tucked away in a dust filled empty cabinet, what Daryl assumed to be some type of stew popped and hissed as it rose to a temperature that should assure that they did not become sick from eating the cans of food they had found pushed to the very back of the cabinets. With a long wooden spoon that had a thin crack edging its way through handle, Daryl stirred the meal and then used a pot holder with a faded rose pattern on it to pull the dish off the fire and placed it directly onto the stone base of the fireplace. After dishing out two servings, one for himself and one for Rick, he handed one of the sage green bowls to his traveling companion before tucking into the steaming concoction like a man who had not eaten in a days; temperature of the boiling liquid be damned.

Since leaving the gated community in Columbia, the one that had been a high dollar location before the outbreak, winter had pushed its way into the area with a vengeance and blanketed the world in crisp, white snow, more than he had seen in a long time. Between the icy temperatures and a couple inches of snow, life outside was scarce and thus, hunting and trapping had produced next to nothing over the past week since they had started their trek back to Atlanta. By the time they had stumbled across the empty, damn near dilapidated cabin, one that appeared to have been crudely constructed by hand out of various timber in the area and stone, they had both been plagued by sheer exhaustion and suffering from a deep, gnawing hunger. After searching the cabin for bodies, both living and dead, and finding it empty, they had eagerly set to building a fire to keep warm for the night. When a more in depth search of the cabin had produced several cans of food, some dented and most lacking their labels, they had declared the location their sanctuary at least until the current winter storm passed.

Three days had passed since they had found their cabin in the woods and the storm was just finally starting to show signs of letting up, but only after it unloaded what looked like another six inches of snow over the lands. Arctic winds whipped and whirled just outside the door, the ferocity of it causing the rusted hinges to give just a little bit more with each gale of wind, which caused the door to squeak and groan constantly. Overall, so long as they rationed out their provisions and kept the fire going, the cabin had provided a damn fine place to ride out the snow, wind and icy temperatures, but damned if Daryl was not teetering on the edge of going stir crazy with each minute they remained inside the small, two room home.

Glancing up from his nearly empty bowl, Daryl looked across the small space to where Rick sat on the tattered couch with what had to be the same bored look that Daryl wore himself. Slurping down the last dregs of meaty juice and a handful of diced potatoes, Daryl licked his lips before pointing out the painfully obvious, “We ain't got much more food left. Storm lets up, we gotta try to get back to the lodge.”

Which would mean trudging through what had to be a solid eight or more inches of snow and likely ice, depending on what route they decided to attempt. The snow would not be as deep in the woods, thanks the the tree coverage, but the trail would not be as clear either. The road would be snow covered, but at least there would be less of a chance of a broken ankle on the pavement. It was a damned if you do, damned if you don't situation. Frowning, he stared into the roaring fire and added, “Got damn cabin fever no how, ready to get outta here.”

Rick nodded as he stared into the same flames and agreed, “We can't be more than a day’s walk from here back to the lodge without the snow. Figure it could take three or more with the way it is outside. We could at least walk during the day, find a place to crash at night.” Beef stew clung to his friend's beard after he followed suit and slurped down the last of his dinner, before leaning over to put his bowl down on the floor. “I'm ready to be home. So, we'll give it a shot at first light.”

Daryl pushed off the worn wooden floor where he had been sitting by the fire and took no more than six steps to where his backpack laid beside the makeshift bed he had constructed their first night in the cabin. Whoever had built the place and stocked it had done so with care, adding personalized details to the small cabin in the form of cutesy knickknacks, crocheted doilies on the arm rests of the matching plaid couch and chair, and knitted blankets along the backs of each, as well. But, the place had once been stocked well for emergencies once upon a time, judging by what items had been left over, as though the owners or someone after had used up most of the supplies before leaving or dying. A first aid kit under the kitchen sink still held some bandages and a half used tube of antibiotic cream, plus part of a box of alcohol wipes. Handmade candles and half a jug of lantern oil had been located on a shelf in the bedroom, along with a box of ammunition and a hunting knife. A wooden chest beside the bed had held two thick wool blankets and a couple sets of thermal underwear, which Rick and Daryl had both latched onto quickly and changed into, adding a layer of borrowed clothes from the dresser. Most of the items were ill fitting, but they were relatively clean, which was a far cry from the condition their other clothes were in. All in all, it was a great find in the middle of the wilderness as they slowly made their way back to their family.

As Daryl rifled through his bag, taking note of what was left inside and adding what items he could from the cabin to carry with him, he wondered what was on everyone's minds in regards to their absence. The rest of their traveling companions had to have made it back home a good five weeks earlier, trudging through the gates with crates of traded goods and lacking the leader of the group and his scruffy sidekick. Not going back with their group had been part of the plan, but taking as long as they had so far to return had definitely not been on the agenda.

Originally, Rick and Daryl had stayed behind to help their new allies set up a much needed security plan, after finding out that the group clearly had no idea what they were doing in regards to keeping their members safe. Daryl was not quite sure how the group of around fifty men, women and children had managed to stay alive and do as well for themselves as they had and chalked it up to dumb fucking luck, but if their group wanted to ensure that the trade agreement was upheld something had to be done. So, after a lengthy chat with the leaders of the Columbia group, Rick had decided that the two of them needed to stay behind for a couple of weeks and help get their security detail in order. Which, they had done and did a damn fine job of it, but the winter storm that barged in and took over the land had not been taken in to account and had severely slowed down their return trip home.

Daryl hated to think what Michonne, Carl and especially Judith thought of Rick's absence and hated that after so many years of relative safety, they were put back into a position to worry about their partner and father once more. Folding up two jars of mystery meat into his dirty sweater, Daryl positioned it at the bottom of the bag before glancing over his shoulder at Rick, who was busy doing the same thing in his own bag. “Think we could carry more in one of them bags we found in the closet? Take turns carrying it?”

“Can't hurt to try. Push comes to shove, we can leave it behind if it's too much of a burden down the road. Extra blankets and clothes aren't a bad idea with all that snow.” Rick tightly rolled up a pair of pants and placed them in the backpack, adding two cans of dented stew before tucking two shirts around the food. As he strapped one of the hunting knifes to the outside of the bag, he asked, “You gonna stick around this time? For more than a week anyway.”

Daryl shrugged, honestly not knowing the answer to his friend's question. He had mulled over the same question each night as he laid on his pile of blankets and watched the shadows take over the room as the fire died down and had yet to come up with an answer. On one hand, he was honestly tired of being on the road. He was tired of being damned tired and definitely sick of wondering where his next meal was going to come from, especially when food was scarce and he had to fall asleep to the sound of his stomach rumbling; a sound he experienced almost nightly during childhood, but only had to hear during the outbreak when they were on the road. The months between the Greene's farm and the prison had been the worst since the start of the outbreak, but there had also been a few night's they'd had to go to bed without food during the weeks after the prison fell apart and finding the lodge. No matter what the reason, going to bed without knowing when you would eat again was not a good feeling.

“You shrugging my question off because you really don't know or because you don't want to hear what I have to say when you say you're leaving us again?” Rick asked, turning his attention back to packing up his supplies, instead of staring Daryl down and forcing him to answer the question.

“Don't really know,” Daryl finally grumbled in response. Zipping up his pack, he shoved it against the wall and sat down on his makeshift bed, leaning against the timber wall and staring at his friend. “Thought about going back to where I found Lucy and them, see if the other one's want out. We left several behind, older women that weren't easy to sneak out like the girls.”

“I'm going to assume that pointing out that you can't save everyone would be a waste of my oxygen and instead tell you that we're ready for you to come home for good,” Rick replied as he zipped up his own backpack and took a seat on the couch, propping one boot against the edge of the stone mantle. Scrubbing a palm over his bushy beard, one that had grown in remarkably well during their three month trip, he sighed and asked, “Any particular reason you don't want to stay this time?”

Daryl picked at the frayed edge of the tear in his pants and did his best to avoid making eye contact with his friend, knowing full well if he looked Rick in the eye that all of his secrets would be plainly visible. Not that Rick probably did not already know, the man was eerie at times with the way he could read Daryl like a damned open book. Pulling at a thread, he said, “Just don't like being cooped up is all.”

“Seemed to do pretty good at it before Lily died,” Rick said bluntly, doing the thing he did when it came to pulling the truth out of people. A good trait to have back when he was a police officer, Daryl figured, but it was damned aggravating when you were on the receiving end of it. “You've ran from what happened long enough. Makes me wonder if you aren't running from something else, too.”

“I ain't running from nothing,” Daryl lied, knowing full well they were both aware of just how untrue his statement was. “Just like being out on the road is all.”

“Hungry, tired, dirty? Nah, you're better at that than most, but that's not why,” Rick paused and waited for Daryl to look up from the torn knee of his pants, which he somehow knew Daryl would do, before continuing, “Personally though, I think it has to do with a certain pretty, tattooed brunette you brought back with you last time.” When Daryl opened his mouth to argue the point with a trough of lies, Rick shushed him and said softly, “Moving on doesn't mean you didn't care for Lily. I know you think it's your fault she died, but you've punished yourself long enough, don't you think?”

“It was my fault,” Daryl replied, putting extra emphasis on just who was to blame for the bullet hole that ripped through Lily and killed her. He tugged on the thread on his knee hard enough that it widened the hole, allowing more of the thermal underwear beneath to show through, and he forced himself to stop fidgeting nervously and glared at the fire with a heavy sigh. He would never unburden his soul on any other person, but Rick was more than just another being in the room. Rick Grimes was more than just a friend to Daryl. Hell, he was more family to him than Daryl's own family had been and thus, he found himself spilling out the darkest parts of his soul to his friend. He told Rick of his fears, of worrying about Mia's safety if she stayed with him too long, shared his anxiety over leading another woman he cared about to their grave and finished up the painful thought that had plagued him since day one of realizing his feelings for Mia. “If I let it happen, I move on, it's like I'm letting her go. That I, um, that I didn't care about her.”

“No, it doesn't,” Rick replied, scooting to the edge of the couch to stare at Daryl intently. “I know what you're going through. I carried Lori's death around my neck like an albatross for years, before realizing it wasn't my fault. She got bit and just because I wasn't with her doesn't mean it was my fault. Just like Lily dying wasn't yours, it was Mathias that killed her. Not you.” Rick paused with a heavy sigh at the argumentative grunt Daryl let loose, took a deep breath and asked, “Do you think less of me for being with Michonne?”

“What? No,” Daryl replied with a shake of his head. Blushing with the embarrassment that came with being a man who was having a heart to heart with his friend. “Course not. Surprised it took as long as it did actually. She's good with your kids. Fights beside you. Takes care of you. Y'all are good together.”

“What you got with Mia is the same thing, so why do you think less of yourself when you don't think less of me?” Rick asked, throwing out the wisdom that only Rick Grimes could come up with sometimes. “I'm just saying we aren't guaranteed to be alive tomorrow and sure as hell don't have a guarantee on happiness. You should let yourself have some of it before something happens to you.”

Thankfully, the rest of the conversation that night circled back around to their plans of departure and sleep, before heading out into the snow covered world in search of the home they both missed. It took longer than Rick had hoped, the snow and ice made them slow down tremendously and caused the trip to take a solid week to make it back to the massive gates that closed the lodge off to the outside world. Gaining entry was swift, thanks to Carl being on the wall, and after a tear filled greeting of happiness between father and son, they headed into the lodge just in time to grab a bite to eat before lunch ended.

Disheveled, dirty and stinking to high hell, Daryl followed Rick and Carl through the restaurant doors and made a beeline to the buffet line that was a half a second away from being cleared by the trio of women working in the kitchen. Plopping the remainder of lunch on his plate, the end pieces of some sort of roasted beast, half a plate each of potatoes and a chunk of cornbread, they started towards the nearly empty table that a handful of family members still sat at and as Rick was enveloped by his lady love, Daryl's eyes searched the room for the woman who had stolen his heart, regardless of how hard he had resisted.

His eyes found hers mid-sweep and a warmth spread across his body as his blue eyes found her shock filled swamp water green ones. Daryl did not register the large man at her side, which was surprising given how large the man was, but the moment the man held out his hand to her as she stood up from the table, Daryl's mouth turned into a frown that matched the gleam in his eyes.

Daryl's eyes washed over Mia, drinking in the sight of her face after so many months away from her, regardless of the hulking man who was hovering over her like a mother hen as she started towards the entrance of the restaurant and subsequently Daryl, as he was blocking her pathway to the exit. His eyes wandered over the shine to her longer honey colored locks, the glow to her creamy skin and dropped lower to the swell of her breasts in the tight tank top, the unbuttoned flannel shirt she wore over it doing nothing to hide the generous cleavage poking out. He felt tug at his heart at the sight of her, happiness quickly spread through him and then something warmer something a bit more illicit as he realized just how much he had missed her, but the moment his eyes landed on the rounded belly where her hand rested, a cold realization washed over him.

Mia was pregnant.

While he had been busy fighting his feelings for her by running away, Mia had been busy moving on with her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for being patient with the lack of update last week. I will post another chapter tonight sometime, I just have to edit it. Thanks again and I hope you enjoy the update.


	64. Chapter 64

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 63 posted Sunday night, in case you missed the notification.

_“I’m breaking free from these memories  
Gotta let it go, just let it go  
I’ve said goodbye  
Set it all on fire  
Gotta let it go, just let it go.”_

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_Avril Lavigne “Let It Go”_

Despite being the topic of conversation at the table during lunch, Mia's focus was on the blankets of snow covering the grounds just outside the floor to ceiling windows that lined the rear wall of the restaurant. The storm had been raging outside the windows at breakfast with wind whipping through the trees and bits of ice slamming against the window panes, but seemed to be slowing down now that lunch had arrived, the dark gray skies fading to a lighter heather shade that made it so Mia could just barely make out the flecks of snowflakes falling softly to the ground.

Lost in the sight of the winter wonderland just beyond her reach, Mia barely heard the sound of her name being spoken by her table mates. Shaking off the foggy haze of her daydream, she glanced across the table to where Blake was staring at her and asked, “I'm sorry, what?”

“Aiden said your room was like ice this morning when he stopped by before breakfast,” Blake repeated, pausing only long enough to shovel a bite of meat into his mouth. “I think you should move downstairs to the couch at night. It can't be good for the baby for you to be that cold.”

“There are other pregnant women around here that sleep just fine in their rooms. I'll survive, too,” Mia said, before taking a drink of the hot tea she had grown accustomed to drinking since the temperatures were so cold. The restaurant had a large stone fireplace centered in the middle of the room and required a constant supply of firewood, but at least it was toasty warm in the room at meal time, but the hot tea warmed her from the insides and made the bone chilling weather slightly more tolerable. “But, I'll grab another blanket from the supply room before bed tonight if that'll make you happy.”

“The other women have someone in the bed with them at night to help keep them warm,” Blake replied with a slight twist of a smile on his lips, unknowingly striking a painful chord inside Mia at the reminder that she was going through the pregnancy alone. He gestured with his fork towards Mia's stomach and added, “I'm sure someone would volunteer to snuggle up to you at night, even with the baby bump.”

At Blake's suggestion, Mia managed to inhale her tea, instead of drink it and did her best to keep the liquid from shooting across the table as she coughed. Once she was relatively sure that she was done avoiding death, she cast a glance towards a very red faced Aiden before glaring at Blake. “Yeah, even if there were willing volunteers, I think I'll still pass. And, don't call it a baby bump, its grown way past an adorable bump and I'm not even out of the second trimester. I shudder to think how big my stomach is going to be in a few more months.”

“You're adorable and you know it,” Blake chided, shooting Mia an almost watery smile in return. Even though she had announced her pregnancy five weeks earlier, when the size of her stomach would not let her keep it secret any longer, her friend still had a difficult time keeping his excitement off his face and constantly told her just how cute her rounded belly was. “I keep waiting for some of that weight to go elsewhere, but it's all belly. Well, and boobs, but mostly belly. But hey, maybe you'll get lucky and keep the big ol' jugs after you pop the baby out.”

“And that's my cue to leave,” Mia said with a chuckle and a shake of her head. She could not help but laugh, even though she knew that by doing so she was just encouraging Blake to carry on about her weight, which was not even that much to be honest. She had lost several pounds before arriving at the lodge, so thanks to the thinner frame her belly looked larger than it likely would have been otherwise. Mia glanced at the handsome veterinarian that had rescued her from an embarrassing face plant on the patio so many months ago and asked, “Aiden, did you get those books off my desk that you asked me to find for you?”

“Not yet. Got busy with birthing Gertrude yesterday and forgot to run by before I went to bed.” Aiden chugged down the last of his water and added the empty glass to the pile of plates from the table, rounding up every bit of dishware and cutlery in his massive hands before standing up. “I've got some extra time right now. I'll walk you over and grab them.”

“The kids are so excited about meeting the baby when it’s old enough. Have you picked out a...a name,” Mia stuttered over the last few words as she struggled to find a breath in her lungs to breathe. The napkin in her hand fluttered to the table top, used and forgotten, when her eyes lifted and locked gazes with a pair of glacial blue eyes that haunted her dreams every night. Eyes that had long since walked out on her, but her heart had yet to forget. Gulping nervously, Mia somehow managed to otherwise appear calm as bid Blake farewell, leaving him alone to finish his lunch before heading outside to shovel sidewalks, and stepped out from behind the table; allowing Aiden to offer his hand to help her navigate through the cluster of chairs.

Even though the baby inside her belly had no clue who its father was, had not even heard the warm timber of his voice, Mia could swear that their child moved and kicked her from inside the minute their eyes connected. She lifted her hand and placed it palm down on the swell of her stomach, pushing aside the thick flannel shirt that hung unbuttoned over a ribbed white tank top, and at the touch of her hand to her belly she saw the realization flicker in Daryl's eyes.

With a false sense of nonchalance, Mia put one foot in front of the other as though there was nothing amiss with the situation and headed towards the restaurant doors with Aiden at her side. She had every intention of walking straight past Daryl-damned-Dixon, letting him stand around with his mouth gaping open in shock the way he had left her just over three months ago, but her plans were thwarted when Rick noticed her...and her belly.

“Well, this is a pleasant surprise,” Rick said with a warm smile of genuine happiness, one that was more so reflected in the crinkle at the corners of his eyes and flash of teeth, since his beard was well on its way to giving a burly mountain man a run for his money. As with many of the lodge members, his hand immediately started towards the curve of her belly, but unlike many others, he faltered a few inches away and asked, “May I?”

“Sure, but so far no one else has been able to feel the baby move. Just me, when it’s time for bed, at this point,” Mia answered with her own smile. Somehow the sparkle of glee in Rick's eyes temporarily melted away the anger in her heart that still lived there in regards to how Daryl had treated her before they had left off on their mission, as well as the nervous trepidation that coursed through her veins due to his sudden reappearance.

After a brief moment, Rick removed his hand and Mia caught the quick glance he shot towards Aiden, no doubt curious as to what the handsome veterinarian had to do with the whole situation. Not sure if Daryl had managed to get an introduction to Aiden in the short time that he had been home, Mia let her southern manners slip in and take over, but did not bother to offer up anything other than the general information; it was not as though she owed him any sort of explanation as to what her relationship with Aiden was. “Um, Daryl, this is Aiden. He's the veterinarian here,” she muttered, anxiety making her mouth as dry as the Sahara desert. “Aiden, this is Daryl. He's the one that found Lucy and brought us all here.”

Of course Aiden had been fully clued in on the rescue of Mary's baby sister and how they had come to the lodge, but upon Mia's insistence, Blake had kept his mouth shut about the relationship that had formed between Mia and Daryl. In fact, as far as the other lodge members went, only a handful knew that there had even been anything between the two of them and that he was the father of the baby growing in her belly. There had been questions at first, that much she had expected, but after a while the curiosity died down and everyone accepted the explanation she had given out; that she had gotten pregnant before leaving with Daryl and the others, and that the baby's father was no longer in the picture. It was the truth after all, just with a good bit of information conveniently left out.

“It's a pleasure to finally meet the man that's rescued so many,” Aiden said, ever the gentleman, as he offered his hand in greeting to Daryl. “Lucy and Mary are quite taken with you.”

Not that she had expected Daryl to accept the hand that Aiden extended to him, but she had thought he would do something other than glare at the man in confusion before his icy blue eyes heated up to a murderous gleam. Reaching out, Mia grabbed hold of Aiden's hand and took it in hers before Daryl did reach out and take it, using it as leverage to rip Aiden's arm straight out of his socket, and did her best to navigate the both of them out of an uncomfortable situation. “Rick, it’s good to see you. Glad ya’ll finally made it home safely,” Mia choked out, managing to not make eye contact with Daryl in the process. “I'm sure we'll see each other later, but I've got to get to class. Um, Daryl, you uh, have a good lunch.”

All but dragging Aiden's six foot four frame behind her, Mia pulled him through the frosted double doors and did not slow down until they were safely ensconced inside one of the smaller conference rooms that had been claimed as her classroom. The room boasted a row of large windows that made it easier to read during class, and looked out into a glorious courtyard that was usually covered over in colorful flowers, but was currently buried beneath a foot of snow. Paint covered the drab, cream colored walls, thanks to a selection of craft paints that one of the scavenging groups procured. Mia had allowed the kids to go wild with the various colors, painting the walls with hand prints of all sizes, hearts and swirls and ribbons of colors, flowers and stars, puffy clouds and stick trees. Books lined shelves by the door and colorful crafts decorated the otherwise run of the mill conference tables that were now used as desks. Overall, the room was as close to a school classroom as she could get at the lodge and a bright spot in the otherwise humdrum decorations around the compound.

Inside the classroom, Mia was thankful to find that the students had yet to show up for their afternoon classes and shut the door after dragging Aiden inside with her. Under other circumstances, she would have gave him the slip and hidden in the room alone, but since he had to get the stack of books she had gathered up for him the day before, it was easier to just tug him inside the room with her. With her back against the door, she sighed a breath of relief, one she had not realized she had been holding in so deeply, and forced back the sudden tears that sprang to life in her eyes.

“So, after that reaction, I’m going to assume that was the father?” Aiden asked after a handful of tensely silent moments. Leaning a hip on the corner of her desk, he continued, “You okay?”

“I don't even know how to answer that question,” Mia replied honestly. After the rest of the group had returned to the lodge without Daryl and Rick, she had steeled herself against the possibility that he would not return, a possibility that seemed very likely when weeks passed without a hint of their survival. Eventually, daily life took over and it was only at night, when she was alone in bed, that Mia allowed herself to even think about him. Needless to say, the sudden appearance of Daryl at lunch, after so many weeks of thinking he might be dead, had thrown her for a loop. Mia opened her mouth to try and explain further, but the sound of someone just outside the door interrupted her.

Assuming it was Blake, who had obviously witnessed the uncomfortable reunion in the restaurant and would no doubt want to check in on her before continuing on to his daily duties, Mia held up her hand to Aiden to pause the conversation and turned around to open the door. For the second time that day, her stomach did a somersault of nervousness when she found Daryl standing on the other side, instead of Blake.

“Daryl, hi,” she managed to mutter once the surprise faded enough to find her voice. “What are you doing here?”

“Can we talk?” Daryl asked, glancing through a shock of dingy bangs over her shoulder to where Aiden was no longer perching on her desk. With a curl of his lip, he then asked, “Or you busy?”

“I've got class soon, but I've got a few minutes,” Mia said as she opened the door wide enough for Daryl to cross the threshold. With palpable tension between the two men in the room, she stepped towards the desk to grab hold of the books she had pulled for Aiden and handed them to him. “If you need something else, just let me know. Surely we've got what you need somewhere in one of these rooms.”

“Thanks and sorry I didn't get them last night,” Aiden said as he allowed Mia to lead him towards the doorway that Daryl was no longer hovering around. Lowering his voice, he leaned closer and asked, “You okay or you want me to hang around?”

“I'll be fine. Thank you,” Mia assured him as she stepped up on her tiptoes and brushed a kiss of gratitude across the soft beard covering his cheek. “I'll see you at dinner.”

Closing the door, Mia turned to face Daryl and debated on how she should start the conversation. Something told her that pointing to her belly and saying, 'Surprise, you're the daddy!' was not the best way to approach the situation. Opting for a round of small talk to break the proverbial ice, she said, “So, long time no see, right? I, um, wasn't sure you'd come back, not when the group showed up without ya’ll. Did the weather cause many problems?”

“You're pregnant,” Daryl said, avoiding her lame attempt at conversation and stating the blatantly obvious.

“Yeah, I am,” Mia replied with a warm smile as she pressed a hand to her belly, a gesture that was oddly comforting. “A few months along.” If you asked her, Mia could not have told you why she left out exactly how far along she was, something that even the most basic of mathematicians could use to figure out that Daryl was the baby's father, but for some reason, it felt like the best answer at the moment.

Daryl glanced towards the closed door and frowned, before opening his mouth to say something and closing it quickly, as though he changed his mind. He dropped his eyes to the floor and muttered something so quietly that Mia could only hear the sound of his voice, not the actual words, but she did catch the growled curse that slipped past his lips before he looked back up at her; his eyes full of some emotion that Mia did not have a chance to decipher before it faded away.

“You happy?” he asked, his voice low; full of gravel and grit as though he had not had much sleep or liquids to soften his words. “Here, I mean. With...with everything.”

“Yeah,” Mia replied, drawing out the one word answer as she tried to get a read on Daryl and what he was trying to ask her. While life had thrown her one curve ball after the other over the past few years, she could honestly say that at that moment in her life, with the baby she had always longed for growing in her belly, that she was honestly happy. Or, well, as happy as one could be when faced with raising a baby alone in the apocalypse, but she tried her best to not dwell on that too much and she refused to let Daryl's reappearance do anything to alleviate the fear of being a single mom, because his presence was never guaranteed. Smiling, she added, “Yeah, I am. Very much so.” And, because she was curious, she asked, “Are you?”

Daryl's eyes bounced across every item in the room, everywhere except her eyes, as he tried his best to avoid her question. Not that she expected him to answer, but some type of verbal acknowledgment of her question would have at least been nice to have. Instead, Daryl shrugged off his backpack and set it on a nearby table, unzipping it and ruffling through the items inside in silence. After a handful of silent moments, he pulled his hand out and thrust the items he had procured towards Mia. “Here, thought you'd want these.”

Curious, Mia stepped forward and took the clutch of books from Daryl and nearly died from shock at what he had handed her. “You found some of my books,” she breathed out in shock, as she inspected the trio of thin, glossy white books. Turning them over the took in the sight of herself and Micah on the back, posed with the namesake of the book series she wrote and her brother illustrated, Daisy Belle, the family cat.

“Yeah, found 'em in a shop. Figured you'd want 'em,” Daryl muttered with a shrug, as he zipped his dingy backpack up and slung it over his back.

The sound of someone knocking on the door interrupted them, a half a second before Bryce, the classroom leader for the week, cracked the door and asked, “Miss Mia, are you in there? Mr. Aiden said we could come see the baby goat if you'd bring us over. Can we go?”

Shooting Daryl a look of apology, Mia headed towards the door and opened it for her students, finding the whole gaggle of them huddled outside of the doorway. “Yes, Bryce, I'm here. Ya’ll come in for a minute and we'll see about going by to see the baby goat.” Pulling open the door all the way, she added, “I've got a visitor right now. You guys go read silently for a little bit and then we can go.”

Of course, in Daryl Dixon fashion, the sound of the second door at the rear of the room clanging shut punctuated her words as he left without saying goodbye. A fleeting rush of disappointment at his absence washed over her, only to quickly be replaced with relief over not having to tell him that he was going to be a father. While she had practiced the conversation a million times since he left, repeatedly going over what she would and would not say if given the chance, none of the words had come to her when faced with Daryl's return.

Shaking off the surprise at his sudden reappearance at the lodge, Mia held up the books in her hands and said, “Okay, I've got a treat for you guys. My um, friend brought three of my books back with him,” Mia announced as she headed over to perch on the front edge of her desk. The group of eager eyed children stared back at her, most not caring about anything other than going to see the baby goat, so she added, “How about we read one and then go visit Mr. Aiden?”

After a chorus of eager chatter, Mia picked out her favorite of the three, a book about Daisy Belle's first day at school, and explained the premise of the stories once more, despite having told them about her series when she started teaching the class. Pointing to the front, to where a white and orange cat stared out of a school bus window with a pink bow perched between her ears, Mia said, “This is Daisy Belle and today we are going to learn about her first day of school and riding on the school bus.”

As Mia fell into the story that she and Micah had concocted many years before, she made a mental reminder to track Daryl down later and say thanks once more for bringing home a piece of her past...as well as a note to locate her big girl panties and tell him he was going to be a father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed the 2nd chapter for the night!
> 
> On another note, I am being forcibly removed from night shift as of this week, so I may start posting on Wednesday mornings starting next week. It all depends on my internet at home, as it's quite spotty. I will see how posting Sunday night goes, so if you don't see an update at usual time, don't fret, as I will post it on Wednesday.


	65. Chapter 65

_“Cut up into pieces, looking for a reason._  
Who's gonna be there to make me whole?  
I can't stop the bleeding.  
Looking for a meaning.  
Throw me a line and bring me back home.  
Won't you say something, say something?  
I can't do this alone.  
Cut up into pieces, looking for a reason.  
Throw me a line and bring me back home.” 

__

I Prevail “Lifelines”

Regret churned deep in the bowels of Daryl's belly as he watched the genuine smile of happiness spread across Mia's face and light it up brighter than a wildfire. One hand rested on the swell of her belly, one that despite his presence around pregnant women on a fairly regular basis he still could not determine how far along she was regardless of the time table in his mind, the smile on Mia's face was more luminous than anything he had witnessed from her prior to that very moment. As she turned away from him to answer the classroom door, Daryl squeezed his eye's shut tightly and willed away the sting of jealousy that ate at him from inside at the thought of what he had missed out on. Knowing that the blame for losing Mia was firmly placed on his own shoulders, and growing heavier with each passing moment, he opened his tear filled eyes and searched the room for another door to escape from before Mia turned her attention back towards him.

Spying a closed door on the other side of a bookshelf towards the rear of the room, he prayed that it was not locked as he quickly made his way towards it. A sigh of relief slipped past his wind chapped lips when the knob turned easily beneath his hand and Daryl eased into the hallway and closed the door, just in time to hear Mia's voice as she mentioned the books he had brought home for her. They had, of course, been meant to put a smile on her face, but their true intent had been one a bit more self serving than simply her happiness. The trio of glossy white books, proudly displaying a ginger and white cartoon cat on the front and a colorful picture of Mia and her brother with the cat's namesake on the back, were first and foremost meant to be used as an olive branch. While the original intent for the books had been granted, Daryl hated that nothing more than her happiness would be granted, especially not after seeing the roundness of her pregnant belly and the affection gleaming in her eye's when she had brushed a kiss upon the bronze beard of the towering man who was undoubtedly the thorn that would forever be in Daryl's side as long as he stayed at the lodge.

Plagued yet again with the indecision of should he stay or should he go, Daryl stomped down the hallway towards the lobby of the lodge with his ever present dark cloud following along with each step. Rounding the corner, he stepped through the threshold of the dimly lit hallway and nearly ran head long into Rick and Michonne, who were holding hands and smiling like a pair of drunken idiots; no doubt excited to spend some alone time together after so many months apart.

The snarling monster of jealousy inside Daryl's heart at the moment reared its head at the sight and turned just a shade greener than it had been when he had first laid his eyes on Mia and the new man in her life. Grumbling a brief greeting to Michonne, he started to step out of their way, but Michonne's warm hand on his forearm pulled him up short. Glancing up from the worn wooden floor, Daryl met her deep chocolate eyes full of concern and pulled up short.

“Are you okay?” Michonne asked, her voice only loud enough to allow the three of them to hear. Her fingers lingered on his skin, but the grip on his arm lessened as the worry in her eyes took in the heartache in his gaze. “You're the-”

He was not interested in hearing what Michonne had to say, especially if it pertained to Mia. He did not want to hear how he had fucked up something that had the potential to be so damned good for him, something that could have healed the hurt in his heart and given him something to live for once again. Nodding his head in an all out lie, he pulled his hand away from Michonne's and grumbled, “Yeah, I'm fine. Ain't no reason not to be.”

“Daryl, it's okay to be upset,” Michonne said, trying her best to reach out to someone who had no desire to take hold of the comfort she was offering. Despite hiding behind the too long, entirely too dirty bangs in his face, Daryl did not miss Michonne's pleading glance towards her partner.

“Daryl, did you get a chance to talk to Mia?” Rick asked, although he had to have known that he had, given the proximity to Mia's classroom and the foul mood that darkened his friend's expression. Twisting his lips into a slight grimace, Rick added, “Really talk to her, that is.”  
“We talked enough, ain't no more needs to be said,” Daryl growled in response as he continued on with his plan to flee the lodge, at least for the rest of the day. “Look, go on and hole up together and leave my shit to me. Aight?”

He heard Rick's sigh and subsequent muttered curse, followed by the sound of him calling after him as he stormed across the river rock floor of the lobby. With a head full of steam and no outlet to release it, Daryl marched towards the door with no destination in sight; completely fueled by the desire to hide from the situation he had returned home to find. Pushing open the heavy wooden front door, he disappeared into the snow covered wonderland that surrounded the lodge and allowed the frost coated trees to devour him.

Hours later, darkness lingered on the horizon as Daryl emerged from the forest; exhausted, shivering from cold and soaked to the bone. Blue tinged lips and pale skin stood out starkly against his dark damp hair that was plastered against his face. While venturing out to hunt after a snow storm probably was not the best idea, especially given the fact that he had very little to show for it since any intelligent life knew better than to be out in the current weather conditions, the anger that consumed him earlier in the day seemed to have fizzled out to a more manageable state.

With his bow tucked over his back and two pathetic squirrels attached to his belt, Daryl headed towards the lodge. Sometime during his escape into the woods the storm had picked up momentum once more, making the trek across the grounds more difficult than expected, which only made him slightly grateful that his kills for the day were nothing short of a handful and not something larger. High stepping across the opening from the wood line, Daryl trudged up the slippery incline that led to the pool area and carefully inched his way over the icy cement patio and struggled to pull open the glass door that led into the lodge, thanks to the mound of snow built up in front of it.

Shaking off like a wet dog, Daryl stomped his feet on the rubber mat that had been laid down near the entrance, before heading towards the kitchen to skin and process the pitiful, half-frozen squirrels that he honestly should be ashamed of. Poking his head inside the door, he found the kitchen staff busy at work trying to get dinner ready and quickly realized that he would just be in the way if he stayed too long, not that processing the kills would take very long, but opted to reach inside the door and snag a filet knife off the block before anyone other than Carol noticed him. A quick nod of her head was all she offered when she saw what his hand was in search of and she went back to barreling through dinner prep like a drill sergeant, but Daryl knew that he could expect nothing short of a mother-like chastising from her about going out in a winter storm the first second she had the free time to do so.

Knife in hand, the door whooshed closed behind him and Daryl opted for going in to the front porch to process the meat, instead of the side patio where it was typically performed, strictly because the front entrance had an overhang that should have kept some of the large piles of snow from building up on the porch. He had barely turned into the lobby, the warmth from the roaring fire instantly warming the cold ice in his veins, when he spotted two figures embracing near the archway that led to the hallway of conference rooms. Judging by the hulking form and absurdly ridiculous bun perched on top of his head, Daryl instantly recognized one half of the couple as the man that had been with Mia earlier that morning and his hackles rose at the assumption that the shorter person in the embrace was in fact the woman that he had stupidly let get away.

With the full intent of storming past the couple, Daryl started towards the front door, but pulled up short and full of shock when the couple broke apart. Daryl stood stock still, filet knife in one hand and strand of squirrels in the other, with nothing short of utter confusion written across his face when he finally saw who the second party in the couple was.

“Daryl. Uh, hey,” Blake managed to choke out around his embarrassment, his face only a shade or two less flaming red than his hair, thanks to being interrupted in such an intimate situation. Cocking his head slightly to the left when Daryl simply stood there in shocked silence, Blake asked, “Are you okay?”

“You,” Daryl said, confusion lacing through his voice as he studied Blake and the man beside him. With the sharp end of the blade in his hand, he pointed towards the ridiculously large man with the equally ridiculous bun perched on his head and asked, “And you?”

“Yes, we're together,” Blake replied with a scowl on his face, as though he was quite accustomed to having his relationship with Aiden questioned on a daily basis. The scowl deepened and Blake asked, “Why? Do you have a problem with it?”

“Blake, I don't think that's what he's insinuating,” Aiden interjected. With a knowing smile, and an ever so slight touch of chagrin added into the mix, he added, “He may or may not think that Mia and I are involved.”

“Why would Daryl think that,” Blake asked. The scowl on his freckled face turned to confusion as he studied his boyfriend and then looked back at Daryl to see if there was any objection on his part. Glancing back to Aiden, he cocked an eyebrow and asked, “What did you do?”

“It's not so much what we did, as what wasn't mentioned,” Aiden said with a shrug, one that plain as day said he was not going to lose any sleep over the misdirection either. “Look, Mia didn't introduce me as her gay best friend's boyfriend, so I didn't bother to say anything. I just figure he might have gotten the wrong impression is all.”

“So, there ain't shit going on with you and Mia,” Daryl clarified once more, glancing between the two men as he spoke, before landing on Blake. With his eyes on Blake, the tip of his blade was pointed directly at the golden Hulk when he asked, “Then her baby? It ain't his?”

“Why would you think it was? You've clearly seen how far along she is,” Blake pointed out, shaking his head in response to the absolute bullheadedness of Daryl. “Man, I knew you were stupid, I just didn't realize how stupid, you know? Of course the baby isn't his. Jesus, she's like five months along, Daryl. You've been gone for what? Like three? Do the math.”

And do the math, he did. Right there in the middle of the lobby, the realization that the baby growing in Mia's belly belonged to him. He was going to be a father. A fucking father. Something did not click in his head, not fully anyway, because the last thing he ever expected himself to be was someone's father. He was not Rick, or Glenn or Abe. He knew jack shit about being a father, a role model, the man in a child's life that protected them and instilled morals and shit. He was a Dixon, after all.

A Dixon. Just like his fucking father, if the moniker could even be bestowed upon the waste of space that was Will Dixon. What if he became just like him? What if all along the end goal in his life was to become just like his father, the way his father had become just like the man before him?

Daryl shut his eyes, squeezing them together so tightly that the tears in them rolled down his cheeks. Choking back the sob that threatened to follow his tears, Daryl felt a wave of hatred wash through him as he understood what it was Mia had been trying to tell him before he had so coldly walked out on her; leaving her alone and pregnant for the past three months. Hell, if he was honest with himself, he had abandoned her long before she had even realized she was pregnant. Because he was a bastard. A son of a bitch who had focused solely on his own pain, his own guilt, without knowing or caring what it was doing to someone he cared about.

“Are you planning on standing around like a statue or going to find Mia and, I don't know, beg for her forgiveness?” Blake asked sarcastically after an uncomfortable amount of awkward silence as Daryl simply stood in place and reflected on what a piece of shit he had been.

Cracking open his eyes, Daryl peered out from beneath a shock of beyond dirty hair and with uncertainty gleaming in his indigo eyes. “You think that's good enough? That she'd want me to?” Gnawing on his bottom lip, Daryl waited for the ass chewing from Blake that he deserved and hated that he had to resort to asking Mia's friends for help in deciphering what she would or would not want.

“Uh, yes,” Blake replied with an incredulous tone to his voice, before toning it down to something a bit closer to a more caring area. “Look, I'm not saying it's going to be easy. We both know she's not going to let you just walk right back into her bedroom. But, she's carrying your baby, Daryl. Isn't that worth fighting for?”

Tears flowed freely down Daryl's cheeks, cutting through the grime that had built up while out on the road, and he honestly did not care who saw them. Grief was a part of human life and that was what he was feeling in spades. Grief over treating Mia horribly after they escaped. Grief over walking out on her when she needed him the most. Grief over leaving her alone to grow their baby on her own.

Nodding silently, Daryl felt his grip on the knife and squirrels slip from his grasp and heard them land by his feet; the knife clattering against the stone flooring, followed by the dull thud of the fur covered meat. Without bothering to reclaim the items, Daryl left them where they fell and headed out of the lobby, leaving Blake and Aiden in his wake. He vaguely heard Blake's voice calling out to him as he jogged towards the stairs in search of Mia, hollering out something along the lines of good luck.

His feet pounded up the stairs, taking flight after flight without his mind truly registering how many steps he was taking. His brain was too focused on the task at hand, on finding Mia and apologizing, on trying to fix what he had broken and praying that whatever had been growing between them was able to be stitched back together. He screeched to a halt on the third floor when he realized where he was and tore down the hallway towards Mia's room, the one at the complete opposite end of the hallway from the one he had shared with Lily.

His chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath and eyes burned with the tears of regret and shame, of guilt and heartache, but he pressed forward until he was at her door. He did not recall knocking on the closed door, but the knob was turning, so he must have done so. With his heart in his throat, Daryl barely managed to control himself while waiting for Mia to open the door, which seemed to take far longer than it should have, but after what felt like hours finally gave way to the most beautiful sight he had seen in a long time. Everything he wanted to say was trapped in his mind, all the apologies and pleas for forgiveness were lost to the sight of her. Clad in something as simple as a pair of black sweat pants and an over-sized flannel button up shirt with her chestnut hair pulled back into a bun that surpassed messy, and yet, Mia was nothing short of beautiful to him.

Looking back, it was a risky move, barging in without an invitation, but at that moment it was the only choice he had, because his brain was short circuiting quickly. Daryl rushed in and took Mia in his arms, her rounded belly poked against him and the feel of it sent a warmth of happiness straight to his heart. His hands shook as he raised them up and placed one palm on either side of her face and the sheer confusion in Mia's hazel eyes barely registered to him as he crashed his lips onto hers.

Daryl did not give her a chance to fight him, to pull away and shorten the kiss from the lips he had missed so dearly. Instead, he pressed his forehead to hers and pulled his lips away, albeit regretfully, but he hoped that the time would come when Mia would give her kisses to him freely once more. Forehead to forehead, nose to nose, he kept his hands gently placed on either side of her head and murmured, “I'm sorry.”

He pressed his lips to hers and murmured the apology once more, before dipping his head lower to repeat the process to her chin, the curve of her neck and hollow of her throat. Mia's hands clung to his shoulders, as he sank to his knees and offered his apology to his child; his lips lingering on the swell of her belly. Tears soaked against the soft material of her shirt as he held on to her and sobbed, whispering his heartfelt apology over and over.  
Notes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, due to my new schedule, posting may be a bit sporadic until I get used to sleeping at night. I've always been a night owl and super creative in the wee hours of the morning, but after 14 years of night shift, work has decided to move me to day shift and I am not adjusting to the new sleep routine. I've gotten maybe 3 hours a night in the past week? I'm exhausted.
> 
> Anyway, I will post at least once weekly, I'm just not sure exactly what day that will be on. Sorry for the trouble! How'd everyone like the show last night? First time I've gotten teary eyed in a while. I will miss Chandler, but he did an amazing job dying last night.


	66. Chapter 66

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been brought to my attention that chapter 65 didn't post. It showed up for me, but I didn't realize it was in preview mode for further editing and had saved as a draft. I have since fixed the issue, so of my chance you're reading this on Thursday the 8th or later, make sure to read the previous first.
> 
> Sorry for the confusion !

_“You are my drug_  
My miracle  
You are my cure  
In this infected world  
And I can’t do this without you  
I’m dying here without you.” 

__

_In This Moment “Bones”_

Although the snow was piled up in layers upon layers of fluffy white drifts, the outdoor work crew had thankfully cleared most of the walkways with hours of shoveling over the majority of the day, so the walk from the stables was long, but a fairly easy trek for the most part. While Blake had offered to take the kids for her, no doubt planning on using the classroom field trip as a way to spend an extra moment during the day with his boyfriend, Mia had declined in hopes that the walk and visiting the baby goat would provide a much needed distraction from Daryl's sudden reappearance. Unfortunately, while the walk had given her a chance to stretch her legs and get fresh air, watching the baby goat wobble around had not kept her attention the way she had hoped.

Blake had ended up meandering down to the stables on his own anyway and when he had offered to walk the children back for her, Mia had eagerly accepted in hopes of escaping to her bedroom and hunkering down beneath a mountain of blankets for her afternoon nap; something she had never needed before, but five months pregnant with what seemed to be an energy draining baby meant there was rarely a day that went by without at least a small nap. She figured the afternoon animal adventure had cut into at least half of her usual slumber time, but if she was lucky and could fall asleep quickly, she could get just shy of two hours before dinner. Dinner, another thing she eagerly anticipated each day, along with every other meal. At the rate she was going with her food intake, Mia figured she would closely resemble a beluga whale by the time she gave birth. At her current state, her stomach was measuring larger than she should be at five months, but not by much, more like closer to the far end of six months, which is what really stuck in her craw about Daryl clearly not putting two and two together about her pregnancy. Hell, the man had only been gone three months and had to know without a doubt that she had not been with anyone else during the months before he left, so she had no idea why he was being obtuse about her current state of roundness. All Mia could chalk his behavior up to was either being stupid by thinking she had been with someone else, or that he just did not care that she was carrying his baby, and honestly, either option just pissed her off even more.

Pushing the aggravating thoughts momentarily to the side, Mia stomped her boots on the mat outside the front entrance and did her best to get the majority of the snow off before doing the awkward dance that came with trying to toe off the rubber shoes without bending over to take them off by hand. With both hands on the railing, she used the toe of one boot to nudge the heel of the other one off, but only succeeding in moving the boot a fraction of an inch before it refused to move any further. Cursing, she straightened, instantly putting pressure on her lower back, and stared up at the sky in frustration. With all the snow and muck that was brought along with it, the lodge dwellers took off their dirty shoes as often as possible to keep down the mess that would otherwise be tracked through the hotel, but damned if it looked like stomping them off as much as possible was going to be her only option until after the baby was born.

“Here, let me help,” a twangy southern voice said from behind her. Mia glanced over her shoulder and found Rick coming up the stairs, a guardian angel she had not wished for, but would not turn down. Freshly scrubbed and decked out in clean clothes, only the excessive growth of hair on his face gave away any indication of being on the road for the past three months. “Looks like you're having a bit of trouble.”

“Belly doesn't let me lean over too easy anymore,” Mia explained as she patted the round protrusion that looked bulkier than usual thanks to the thick, cherry red winter coat zipped up over it. When Rick squatted down and held out his hands, she graciously added, “Thank you. I didn't think of needing to take them off when I sent Blake ahead with the kids.”

“Not a problem,” Rick replied with a charming smile, one that lit up the glacial blue of his eyes. Standing one rubber boot up against the railing, he motioned for the other and said, “Had to do this for my wife back when she was pregnant with Carl. I think it rained for a solid six months before he was born and Lori couldn't lean over to take off her rain boots most days.”

“Lucky woman,” Mia murmured, instantly jealous of a woman she had never met, simply because her husband had doted on her when she was pregnant with their baby. When the second boot was off and placed beside its match, Mia stood in her sock feet on the cold, yet surprisingly dry front landing and said, “Again, thank you for that. If you hadn't come along I'd likely have had to take my nap with my boots on.”

Ever the gentleman, Rick waved off the gratitude with a shrug and said, “We're all family here. I've helped Maggie out more times than I can remember.” Moving past Mia towards the front entrance, he pushed open the massive wood door and held it open so that she could walk through first and followed behind her into the warmth of the lobby. After closing the door, he scrubbed a hand over his gnarly beard and asked, “If you don't mind me asking, how far along are you?”

“Right around five months. Give or take a week, I guess,” Mia replied with a chuckle when Rick's line of sight dropped back to her belly with a confused expression. If her mental calculations were correct, she was actually about two weeks shy of the five month mark, but without having a calendar handy since the first night she and Daryl had hooked up, she could not be certain. “I know, I know. I look farther along than I actually am. I'd lost a lot of weight when I first got here, then with all the sickness I lost some more, and now it seems that everything I eat goes straight to my belly. So, I look massive.”

“I figured you were closer to giving birth,” Rick replied honestly, with only a touch of chagrin showing in the blush of his cheeks, or well, what part of his cheeks that were not covered in hair. “Sorry, it's just that you look a lot like Lori did when she was about to give birth to Judith, all arms and legs and belly.”

“No need to apologize, it's an accurate description,” Mia agreed with a smile as she patted her hands against her belly. “My luck, I've got a litter in here. Twins run rampant in my family, but with the way things go in my life I've probably got four babies baking away in my belly.”

“Well, no matter how many there are, I hope you know that you've got help around here. You're family,” Rick reminded her. He paused and rubbed his palm over his beard once more, a nervous habit that Mia doubted he even knew he did when he was mulling over a situation. Curiosity shone in his eyes, but ingrained manners were doing their best at trying to get him to not ask the question that was obviously on his mind, although his curious nature won out in the end. “Have you told him yet?”

Mia shook her head in response, not surprised in the least that Rick was aware of the relationship between herself and Daryl, although she did wonder how much he actually knew. Instead of asking, she rubbed a hand over her belly, her own nervous habit that was oddly comforting, and said, “I didn't get a chance. He disappeared before I could muster up the nerve, which is kind of silly since he has to know it's his. I mean, it's not rocket science.” Mia took a shaky breath and willed back the tears that were welling in her eyes, partly due to the hormonal overload her body was suffering from with the pregnancy, but also because the thought that Daryl would even entertain the idea of the baby in her belly belonging to anyone but him upset her thoroughly. Glancing up at Rick with the persistent tears clinging to her lower lashes, she asked in a soft voice, “It's not going to make him leave again, is it?”

“Finding out he's going to be a father?” Rick asked. When Mia shook her head in response, he answered honestly and damned if Mia did not want him to lie to her just to make the nerves in her stomach ease up a bit. “I want to say that he'll stay. There was once a time I thought I knew Daryl well enough to know what he'd do, but lately? He changed a few years back and I'm not sure I know him well enough to answer that question for you. I do know he's a good man and I'd like to say he'll do what's right, but I can't. But, you have us, I know it's not the same, but you're not alone here.” Rick paused at the sound of Mia's sniffles and waited for her to get her emotions at least halfway under control, before saying, “I should let you go get that nap now, otherwise you won't have time before dinner.”

“Thank you, Rick, for everything,” Mia replied, hoping he understood that she was thanking him for more than helping her out of her boots. Turning to go, she added, “It's good to have you back safe. I'll see you at dinner.”

Waddling towards the stairs, Mia veered off and headed towards the storage rooms for another blanket, as per her promise to Blake, before making the trip up the stairs towards the third floor; a trek that was growing more and more exhausting with each passing week of pregnancy. Once she made it to her bedroom, Mia pulled off her clothes and left them on the floor where they fell in her wake, and located the sweats and flannel button up shirt she slept in since it was so cold out. After adding a pair of thick socks to the ensemble, she crawled into bed and situated the army of blankets on top of her and snuggled beneath the mound of warmth; falling asleep almost instantly.

Out cold, Mia woke with a startled snort when the sharp sound of knuckles cracking against the door rousted her from what turned out to be a fantastic nap. Momentarily confused, her sleep addled brain not quite ready to leave the dream world where the reality of her daily life never existed, where the dead stayed dead and love never left her side, Mia struggled against the comfy pile of blankets as she clumsily tried to untangle herself from their grasp. Damned if she had wanted to tell Blake that he was right, but she had to admit that the extra blankets had been necessary, as her room was turning out to be quite chilly fairly early in the evening. On a whim, she had ended up grabbing two blankets, not really thinking she would need them, but had ended up adding them both to the mountain of blankets at some point during her nap. However, the abundance of blankets and clothing had kept her warm and toasty during the much needed nap, but were working against her and the belly she had yet to grow accustomed to, making getting out of the bed harder than usual.

Calling out for the person on the other side of the door to hold their horses when they knocked again, Mia finally managed to get out of bed and shuffled towards the door. Fully expecting it to be one of her friends fetching her for dinner, which her stomach was eager for judging by the rumble as she walked across the room, she pulled open the door and felt her jaw fall open in shock upon discovering who had woken her up.

While her mouth refused to cooperate due to the surprise visitor, her brain quickly made sure to remind her that her afternoon nap had no doubt left her hair resembling a rats nest, her breath smelling like a bucket of rotten milk and, she could only assume, that there was crusty gunk in the corner of her eyes and a trail of dried drool somewhere on her cheek. She started to raise her hand to her hair in a lame attempt to tame the mess, but barely got it raised from her side when Daryl's stepped forward and gently placed his hands on either side of her face, before not so gently kissing her. Surprised, to say the least, Mia choked out a muffled squeak against his lips, before her knees melted into the embrace; a traitor to the feelings that were still hurt from his abrupt departure so many months before.

Weak kneed in his arms, warmth spread through Mia's body at his touch, at the feel of Daryl's body pressed against hers, and as much as she wanted to fight against the emotion coursing through her veins at the moment, she hated to admit even to herself that this was what she had been hoping for since the last time she had seen him. Raising her arms with the intent to wrap them around him and never let him go again, she barely had a chance to move them from her sides before he pulled back from the kiss and rested his forehead against hers. Daryl's breath was warm against her lips when he spoke, mumbling an apology that struck her straight in the heart with the feels.

Tears sprang to life in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks, a bittersweet mix of happiness and sadness, when Daryl continued on in expressing his sincere apology. His lips pressed to hers and murmured the words once more, before his trailed his kisses down to her chin, the curve of her neck and the hollow of her throat, murmuring his apology after each feather light kiss to her skin. Mia clung to him, as though if she let go he would disappear once more, as he sank to his knees in front of her and pressed a kiss just above her belly button and whispered the words yet again, before turning his head to rest his cheek against the swell of her belly.

As the final rays of light gave way to the dark of night outside, Mia stood frozen in place as Daryl sobbed openly in her arms; the moisture from his tears soaking the worn fabric of her flannel shirt. Afraid that the slightest movement would break up the moment she had hoped and prayed for since the day he had left, Mia held onto Daryl and forgave him.


	67. Chapter 67

_“I can almost feel you breathing  
Like a whisper in my ear  
I remember how you lost me  
Or how I lost you.  
I stare into the blackness  
It’s staring back at me  
Why did I try to live without you?  
I want you, I need you.”_

__

Red “Yours Again” 

By the time Daryl finally let go of Mia, the bedroom was plunged in darkness and the lower half of his body was numb from staying in the awkward position for so long. He could hear the sound of Mia's sniffles, but also the sound of her feet shuffling across the carpet as she walked away from him. Panic rose in his chest for a brief moment, assuming that she was leaving him the way he had done to her three months earlier, but the scratching sound of a match head against the rough strike pad and the flicker of a flame that followed let him know that she was just lighting one of the oil lamps or candles scattered around the room. Sure enough, the golden glow produced by the largest of the lamps by her bed bathed the room in enough light that Daryl was able to push himself to his feet and take a two steps to stand in front of Mia once more.

At a loss for words, Daryl mentally fumbled for something to say to Mia besides spewing out another round of apologies. His hands itched to touch her again, the sudden feel of her in his arms after so many months made him realize just how much he had missed her, and Daryl started to reach out and pull her towards him once more, but the sight of tears streaming down her face halted his intentions. “Mia? You, uh, you want me to go or something?” Daryl asked timidly, hating the thought of being asked to leave her again, but he knew that he had no right to barge in to her life once again without giving her a chance to adjust to him returning back to the lodge. Shuffling from one foot to the other with nervous energy, he added, “I mean, we ain't go to figure nothing out tonight. We got time and all. I, uh, just wanted to tell you I was sorry...for everything.”

Silent, Mia swiped the tips of her fingers beneath her eyes to wipe away the tears that stubbornly clung to her skin and sniffled once more, before responding to his comments, “Do we really? Have time, I mean?” She turned to face him fully and placed the palms of her hands against the swell of her stomach and asked, “Are you staying this time? Do we really have time or are you going to disappear again?”

“I ain't going nowhere,” Daryl replied after a pause as the plans he had discussed with Rick popped into his head and were brushed aside just as quick as they appeared. No way was he going to head back out into the world to rescue a group of women who may or may not be alive, who may or may not have played a part in the plan to round up a group of young girls and sell them into slavery. No way in hell was he walking out of the gates at the entrance of their community any time soon. For once, he finally understood why Rick was so cautious about leaving the lodge once they had found a safe place to live. Rick had someone to live for, he had his children and Michonne. And now, Daryl understood what it felt like to have someone to truly live for and not just with.

Mia squinted at him and cocked her head, as though she could see straight through his words to the plans he had made prior to realizing that he was going to be a father. “Are you sure about that? Seemed to take you a second to come up with an answer.” Sighing, she rubbed the palms of her hands in small circles over the top of her stomach, in essence caressing the child they had made together, and said, “I don't need you to stay, you know? Don't get me wrong, Daryl. I want you here. I want you with me, God only knows why, but I don't need you.”

“I said I ain't-” Daryl interjected, trying to make her believe his intent to stay this time, but Mia waved off his words and continued without skipping a beat.

“I wanted to tell you. I tried to tell you, before you left. Do you remember that day?” Mia sank down onto the edge of her bed with a sad look on her face and stared up at him; the glow of her pregnancy even more evident thanks to the amber light radiating from the oil lamp beside the bed. Daryl nodded, remembering the day he had walked out on her in vivid detail, and she continued, “But, I didn't want you to stay just because you got me pregnant. I wanted you to stay because you wanted to be with me. Looking back, yeah, it was a selfish move. I should have put my baby-our baby-ahead of my needs, but it really hadn't sank in yet at that point; that I was going to have a baby. And, so, I let you leave without saying a word and I regret that.” Mia paused and took a deep breath, no doubt willing the tears that glistened in her hazel eyes to stay put and not careen down her cheeks, before saying, “Because our baby needs you, Daryl. I don't, but he or she will, and I should have told you back then so that you would stay. So, what I'm asking is, are you really going to stay this time? Not for a couple of days or months, or even a year, but really and truly stay and be a part of our lives?”

“I wasn't going to,” Daryl admitted truthfully as he sank down into the chair by her bed, the hotel regulation brown leather arm chair that littered the entire lodge. Facing her at eye level, he forced himself to dig down to the nitty gritty truth and be honest with Mia, she deserved it after all. “I told Rick I was heading back to see about getting the rest of the women out, the ones we left behind. But, I ain't gonna go now, I'm staying this time. Only reason I was gonna go was 'cause of you,” Daryl paused and then cursed himself for choosing that moment to take a moment to collect his thoughts, not to mention his poorly constructed choice of words. Backtracking at the sight of fire lighting in Mia's eyes, he said, “No, it ain't like that. I wasn't because of you. I was running from you.” Cursing loudly, he shook his head and said, “Shit, I ain't good at this.”

“Clearly,” Mia spit out with a less than amused look on her face. “Just spit it out, Daryl. Whatever it is you're trying to oh so eloquently tell me. The quicker the better, right? Like a Band-Aid. Hell, whatever it is can't be any worse than saying you ran away from here to get away from me.”

“I left because I love you, all right?” Daryl all but growled in response, emphatically gesturing his frustration with his hands. Sighing, he muttered a curse and glanced down at his feet before speaking again. “And I don't get how I could love her and love you, too, okay? It ain't something I'm used to and all, loving someone. I didn't know what to do with it.”

“Daryl, you can love more than one person,” Mia replied, her words spoken gently and as soft as a whisper against warmth of his skin. She scooted forward, as best as she could in her pregnant state, until their knees were touching and reached out to take hold of his hands in hers. Lifting their joined hands to her mouth, she pressed her lips against the weathered skin and said, “I loved Brian for a long time and a part of my heart will always belong to my husband, but Daryl, I love you, too. Somewhere along the way, I fell for you and while I can't tell you exactly when or why, I do know that I love you.”

“I'm sorry,” Daryl said once more, knowing that no amount of apologies would ever make up for the way he had treated her during the weeks before he had left with the group, nor for the months that he was gone while she started her pregnancy journey alone. And yes, he understood that she had Mae and Blake, and even the people at the lodge, but he should have been there for her, too.

“I know,” Mia replied earnestly, without a trace of residual anger lingering in her words. Daryl honestly had no idea how she could even think about forgiving him, but the gentleness in her caress and emotion in the tone of her words led him to believe that she had done just that. He started to ask her, but the sound of her stomach rumbling made him remember that she was currently missing dinner.

“Better get downstairs for dinner soon,” Daryl said as he stood up and pulled Mia to her feet behind him. “Figure you're late enough as it is, didn't mean to keep you this long anyhow.”

“It's okay, I'm glad you did,” Mia replied with a smile that proved her words. She slipped her hands from his and moved towards the dresser on the opposite side of the room. Opening one of the drawers, she pulled out some clothes and glanced back at him with a sheepish look on her face and said, “Um, I need to change. Do you mind stepping outside to wait for me?”

“You know I've seen you without your clothes, right?” Daryl replied, more than a little confused as to why Mia would want him to leave the room so she could change, when he had seen her in a lot less clothes than what she would be stripped down to before putting on the other clothes.

“Yeah, but not like this,” Mia said, her voice small and tinged with what he thought was embarrassment, but for the life of him, Daryl could not figure out why she would feel embarrassed at the thought of him seeing her naked; which Mia obviously picked up on, since she explained her reasoning with a frustrated sigh. “Pregnant, Daryl. You haven't seen me naked while I'm pregnant.”

“What's that got to do with anything? Naked's naked, ain't it?” Daryl asked, obviously adding to Mia's annoyance levels since she simply frowned at him and rolled her eyes at his question. Giving in, he held up his hands in surrender and gestured towards the doorway. “I'll wait out in the hall if that's what you want.”

“Thank you,” Mia replied graciously as he closed the door behind him, plunging himself into the darkness that was the hallway. Thankfully the snow outside reflected the half-moon floating high in the sky and made what little light it produced seem a bit brighter, which meant the windows at the end of the hallway let in slivers of silvery moonlight that provided enough light to at least illuminate the narrow space enough that walking was not that big of an ordeal.

A few minutes later, Mia emerged into the hallway wearing an over-sized heather gray sweater, black leggings and a pair of slouchy black boots that looked more like house shoes than something a person would wear outside. Her rats nest mess of a hairdo had been somewhat contained and pulled back into a knot at the base of her neck that was not exactly fancy, but managed to look it nonetheless. All in all, she cleaned up nicely for someone who just rolled out of bed and spent the next half hour crying. Taking her hand, Daryl led the way through the darkened hallway towards the staircase and nearly ran headlong into Mae, who was obviously in search of Mia, since she had yet to show up for dinner.

“There you are,” Mae said brightly once her eyes landed on Mia, who was still clutching Daryl's hand behind his back. “Dinner's nearly over, I was worried about you.”

“Sorry, kept her longer than I meant to,” Daryl replied, answering for Mia since her tardiness was technically his fault. “There still plenty down there for her to eat?”

“For both of you, actually. I assumed Mia had overslept from her nap, so I piled a couple plates up before dinner got picked over. There's plenty for the both of you.” Mae glanced between the two of them, before holding up the lantern clutched in her right hand so that she could study Daryl closer. “You look downright exhausted and filthy to boot. Did you not get cleaned up and rest when you got back?”

“No ma'am, tried to go hunting,” Daryl replied, giving her the short answer, instead of admitting the truth. No sense in telling Mae that he ran off into the snow covered woods after seeing Mia pregnant and with a man that he assumed had filled in his spot when he had left her behind. Shrugging, he added, “I ain't that hungry no how. Ate while I was out. You mind keeping her company while I clean up?”

“Of course,” Mae said with a warm smile, holding her free hand out towards Mia. Daryl handed her off to Mae, feeling as though he was letting go of the most precious cargo in the world, which Mae somehow picked up on, because she said, “Go on and get cleaned up. I'll make she eats all of her vegetables and makes it back to her room safely.”

“I'm pregnant, Mae, not a child,” Mia replied with a childlike roll of her eyes, but the chuckle that followed her words let everyone know that she was not as annoyed with the treatment as her words let on. Before following Mae down the stairs, she turned towards him and leaned in to brush a kiss across his dirty cheek. “I'll bring you back something to eat, okay?”

“I, uh, don't know what room I'm gonna be sleeping in,” Daryl stammered, hating the fact that the thought of sleeping in the room that he once shared with Lily still bothered him after all these years; especially when he was in love with another woman. “I'll grab something later. Don't worry about me, just take care of you...and the baby.”

“Stop being silly, Daryl.” Mia frowned and studied his face intently, despite the low light around them. He felt naked beneath her gaze, as though all the secrets he had hoped to keep tucked away out of sight were right in front of her, laid out open for her to inspect. After a brief moment of silence, Mia quirked one corner of her mouth and said, “Wolf already sleeps in my room. You might as well, too.”

Without giving him a chance to reply, she turned on her heel and followed Mae down the stairs; leaving him at the top with what could only be described as a dumbfounded expression on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning, ladies and gents (are there gents here?)! How's everyone doing? I am still exhausted, not adjusting to day shift at all. #ForeverAVampire But, I did get to have a good visit with family last week. Hope everyone enjoys the chapter. We are so close to the end I can smell it!


	68. Chapter 68

_“I’m still afraid to feel,  
‘Cause I cannot take the pain.  
I’m afraid to feel.  
Afraid to lose someone again.”_

__

_Stabbing Westward “Breathe You In”_

Mia glanced towards the top of the landing before following Mae down to the second floor and smiled at the sight of Daryl's shadow that lingered there. Despite his reassurances that he was home to stay, there was an evil sliver of fear in her heart that whispered to her that he was going to leave the second she let him out of her sight. Logically, Mia understood that the fear in her heart was unreasonable, that Daryl had a reason to stay this time around. The baby growing in her belly would be enough to keep him home this time, it had to be, she reminded herself for the umpteenth time since he had come to her door and apologized with tears streaming down his face. The bond they now shared due to the life they created would be enough to keep him at the lodge, safe and sound, even if the love he proclaimed to have for her faded over time, and for the moment, Mia was satisfied with that knowledge.

“He'll be there waiting when you go back to your room, dear,” Mae reassured Mia in a gentle tone as they descended the final flight of stairs, instinctively knowing what was plaguing Mia's mind without having to hear the words. Mae squeezed Mia's hand reassuringly as she guided them through the shadows towards the restaurant, the sheer proximity of which caused Mia's stomach to rumble loudly with anticipation. Chuckling, Mae said, “The little one is letting you know how unhappy he is with you being late to dinner.”

“She shouldn't make me so tired that I need naps just to make it through the day, if she's so worried about missing a meal,” Mia pointed out, putting emphasis on the other possible gender, as if they had any idea which one it would be. Of course, judging by the sheer girth of her belly, it could be a mixture of genders for all she knew.

“Maybe we'll get lucky and you'll have one of each. You're big enough to have a couple in there, you know?” Mae teased, knowing full well that the likelihood of having multiples was quite high due to the amount of twins that ran rampant through her mother's side of the family. “Of course, even if there's only one in there, I'm just happy I'm finally getting that grandbaby I've wanted for so long.”

“I'm sorry it's not really yours, you know, blood-wise and all,” Mia replied with a frown, hating that she and Brian had tried and failed so many times to give their parents the grandchildren they longed for. But, she knew without a doubt that Mae would treat the baby, or babies, that she and Daryl had created as her own, and for that she was grateful she had inherited such a wonderful mother in law when she married Brian; a reality that a lot of women did not get to enjoy.

“While I wish you and Brian had've had a slew of kids, I am very happy to have this one coming along, too. Don't you doubt that for one minute, young lady. I've known you since you were barely knee high to a grasshopper and have taken a switch to your behind almost as many times as I've done my own child, so that makes you mine, too.” Mae paused just outside the restaurant door and Mia could tell she was gathering her wits before heading inside, while she could not make out the tears in her mother in law's eyes, Mia could more than hear them in her words. “Your parents would be very proud of the woman you've grown into, Mia. I hate they aren't here to see you and love that baby more than I'm going to.”

Mia nodded, which probably was not very effective in the low light, but Mae's unexpected mention of her deceased parents stirred up her own tears and had them threatening to spill over her lashes at any second. Her parent’s death had occurred many years before the outbreak, for which Mia was mildly thankful for, but there was not a day that passed that her heart did not ache at the thought of them, nor was there a moment when she did not curse the drunk driver that had taken them away from her. Gone were her parents, her husband, and her twin brother, so many lives taken away from her needlessly, but somehow she managed to make it and find happiness despite all the heartache.

“Come now, let's get my grandbaby fed before you really piss him-or her- off,” Mae said with a sniffle and a chuckle; finding laughter in a moment of sadness. Pulling open the frosted glass door of the restaurant, she motioned with the lantern for Mia to go in front of her, before following behind her and directing her towards the table she had been sitting at previously. “You go on and sit down. I'll go grab that plate I fixed for you and see what else is available.”

One of the perks of currently being the only one pregnant at the lodge was getting to eat second helpings if needed, something she rarely did, but if the ravenous baby in her stomach kept going at the rate he was, Mia was going to have to start partaking in extra food eventually. Shuffling over to the table, she took a seat beside Lucy and Ollie, one as quiet and shy as the other was loud and boisterous. “Hey guys, how was the baby goat doing?”

Tasked with being helpers at the stables with Aiden, Lucy and Ollie were in charge of feeding the animals before dinner, a task that took longer than usual when there was a baby animal present. Ollie, quiet by nature, simply smiled softly and muttered something along the lines that the animal in question was fine, but Lucy, ever the extrovert, launched in to a lengthy description of every cute thing the little goat did during the time they were at the stables. “It's just so cute, with its little legs and tiny little ears. I seriously think we need more baby goats. More baby everything, honestly. They're just so cute.”

“There are a couple of babies in the nursery, you know? I would think the ladies in charge would be more than happy to have a few extra hands on deck. Want me to ask?” Mia offered, eager to do anything to keep the children she brought to the lodge entertained and happy. Lifting her hands from the table, she sighed contentedly when Mae slid a plate full of roasted meats, vegetables and thick, crusty rolls in front of her. She mumbled her thanks with half a roll stuck in her mouth, unintelligible, but Mae managed to understand what she was trying to convey, before wandering off to help clean up.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Lucy said, pulling Mia back to the conversation. “I mean, I'll play with your baby and Mary's, whenever they have one, but everyone else's baby is just weird. Animal babies are so much cuter than people babies, don't you think, Ollie?”

“Definitely,” Ollie replied, halfway listening to the conversation, but answering nonetheless to keep Lucy appeased. The preteen was all gangly arms and legs, too big ears and shaggy brown hair, but underneath the awkward clutches of puberty, Mia could tell that Ollie was going to grow up to be a handsome young man; something she highly doubted Lucy paid much attention to with the nearly two year age gap between them, but that would likely change one day soon.

“So, did Daryl freak out when you told him about the baby?” Lucy asked curiously as she stuffed the last bit of meat into her mouth and chewed a little too loudly, which would have earned her a stern look and thorough chastising if Mae had still been present at the table. “Where is he, by the way? Did he run straight out of here like his butt was on fire?”

“He's getting cleaned up,” Mia answered with a chuckle, despite the fears in her heart that running away would be something Daryl was likely to do given past experiences. “And, I don't know that he freaked out, as you call it, but it did throw him for a loop. I think he's okay with it though, now that he's had time to think about it. I hope so anyway. It's not like I can return the baby if he doesn't like being a daddy.”

“I think he'll be a good daddy,” Lucy replied with a flicker of sadness that children without parents felt. She dipped her head, causing her braided ponytails to fall forward and hid her freckled face until she managed to control the emotion that she wanted to hide. After a brief moment, she glanced back up at Mia with a slight misty glaze to her eyes and said, “I'm glad he came back, and that y'all are going to have a baby.”

“Me, too, kiddo. Me, too,” Mia said with a watery smile of her own as she mentally cursed the hormones running rampant through her body that caused everything, minuscule or not, to make her either laugh, cry or rage in anger, but cry mostly. Thankfully for her hormones, Lucy and Ollie finished their meals and excused themselves in hopes of cleaning off the stench of barnyard animals before bed, and left Mia to finish her meal in peace, or at least the majority of it. As she folded the last slice of meat into the remaining nugget of roll to eat as a mock sandwich, a shadow fell over the table; the flames from the roaring flames in the fireplace back lighting Maggie's figure with flickering shadows.

“So, Daryl?” Maggie asked as she slid into the chair that Lucy had just vacated. The golden hue of the fire lit up her face and highlighted the gleam of happiness in her eyes. Without waiting for Mia to reply, she continued, “You know, several people here had bets going on who the daddy was, but not a lot of them picked Daryl. If I had taken part in the bet, I could have had a nice selection of scented, slightly expired body lotion and a heap of mint tea.”

“That is a shame then, isn't it?” Mia asked with a laugh, one that she felt straight down to her toes before realizing just how bad she needed a good, deep chuckle. Sobering, she asked, “How'd you know? I thought I did a good job convincing everyone that I'd gotten knocked up by some random guy back home before coming here.” Shaking her head, she added, “Damn, guess my job as an award winning actress is out of the question.”

“Actually, you did a fine job at not letting on and the speculation sort of died down when you started showing so much. Kinda proved it happened long before you got here,” Maggie admitted as she leaned forward and placed her elbows on the table. “Honestly, it was Daryl. I've known him for a long time and sometimes, without saying a word, he tells you exactly how he's feeling. Sometimes not, but this time he did.”

“Glad you can read him that well,” Mia muttered before swallowing the remaining dregs of water from her glass, effectively polishing off the last of the feast that Mae had put together for her. Pushing her plate and glass to the side, she eyeballed Maggie and debated asking her what she thought Daryl's intentions might be, but decided against doing so. Personal matters should be kept between the people it involved, something her father had always preached, and despite the friendship she and Maggie had formed during the last couple of months of pregnancy together, Mia felt it best to keep her fears regarding Daryl to herself and Mae, of course.

“I should be getting back to Glenn and the kids,” Maggie said after a brief pause in the conversation, but did not make a move to get up straight away. Mia followed her line of sight to where Glenn was wrangling a pint sized version of himself and Maggie smooshed together in the form of Everett, or Rett as he was referred to, while somehow managing to hold on to the swaddled infant in his arms. Their daughter, Josephine or Josie for short, named for Maggie's long deceased mother, sported a shock of hair as dark as her fathers and the fierce nature of her mother, judging the ferocity in her wail when unhappy.

“How's Josie doing?” Mia asked when Maggie remained seated. “Has her tummy troubles settled yet?” Sadly, the pint sized Rhee had not adjusted to life outside the womb as well as her big brother had and along with trouble sleeping for more than an hour at a time, little Josie also had an issue keeping her mother's breast milk down.

“Much better, she's eating fairly regularly now. Not as much as I would like, but more than she was and keeping it down.” Maggie smiled and despite the glow of happiness, Mia could see the sheer exhaustion of having an infant, much less one that was having some difficulty adjusting to life, etched into the lines around her mouth and the dark circles beneath her eyes. Mia started to offer to keep Josie and Rett, a task that would be difficult, but necessary for the exhausted parents, but Maggie interrupted her thoughts by reaching across the table to wrap her hand around Mia's. With the smile still plastered on her face, Maggie said, “I'm happy he's moved on. I'm sure you know he's had a hard time the past few years and has let it weigh him down far too long. Daryl deserves happiness, he's one of the good things in this world and I hated seeing him hurt. Take care of him, okay? He's a lot more fragile than he lets on.”

“I'm going to do my best,” Mia replied earnestly, knowing that while they had just breached the first hurdle in their relationship, there was plenty more to get past in the future. First and foremost, figuring out how in the world to go about being in a relationship to begin with. It was not like they had met and dated before having sex. Nope, they had exploded out of the gates with a round or ten of toe curling sex, but had left out the crucial part of forming a relationship with another person. This time around they had to learn to be together, all the while waiting on their baby to be born. But, despite the fears she still had in regards to Daryl sticking around, there was something deep in her heart that told her everything was going to be okay this time; Mia just hoped that little voice was not lying to her.

After Maggie said goodnight, Mia gathered up her plates and tracked Mae down while delivering them to the kitchen. Grabbing the plate of food Mae had put together for Daryl, as well as a small jug of water, Maggie waved off Mae's offer to walk her back upstairs, knowing that the older woman preferred to help out with the clean up before making rounds to check on the few lodge dwellers that needed looking after medically, before heading off to bed herself. Mia brushed a kiss across the soft skin of Mae's cheek and balanced the food and water in one arm and grabbed hold of one of the spare lanterns after Mae lit it for her. With butterflies fighting for space in her belly, Mia climbed the stairs towards her bedroom, all the while saying a little prayer that Daryl had not disappeared on her once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the comments last week! I wasn't sure I was going to get this chapter finished since yesterday was my birthday (40!), but thanks to half a bottle of wine I was able to knock it out. We are quite close to being done, figuring on 2 more chapters, which is probably a good thing since I am having a difficult time writing during the day. This night owl functions better and has a more thorough train of thought when it's dark.
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy the update. Not a lot of actual Daryl, but there will be plenty of him in the next two chapters. I promise.


	69. Chapter 69

_“Cauterize the wound  
So I stop bleeding  
Help me get a grip, I’m barely breathing  
Open up my eyes  
So I can see the light  
I’m stranded in the dark  
Tear me apart._

_Tear away the skin  
So I can find myself again  
I need to feel something within  
Before my heart stops beating  
Can you wake up my soul  
And don’t let me go  
Cuz if I fall into this trap  
I’m never coming back.”_

__

Through Fire "Take It All Away"

The moonlight slithered through the sheer curtains on the window, casting a silvery glow around the bedroom, just enough to allow Daryl to see the rise and fall of Mia's chest as she slept peacefully beside him. Just shy of two weeks had passed since his return to the lodge, twelve days of learning to live in a place that had stopped feeling like home a years ago, but slowly he was learning to be at peace with the ghosts that haunted his mind and the shadowed halls of the lodge. His heart still ached for those that he had loved, had lost and had let down, but somehow he had been given yet another chance to love again.

Losing Beth had been hard, she was one of the few in his life to break down the walls around his heart and become someone he could call a friend; something he had very few of in his life before the outbreak. Daryl had not thought he would let anyone get as close to him again, preferring to keep his circle of friends small, he had stupidly thought that his heart would not be broken again. And then along came Lily, literally stumbling into the path of his arrow, and the walls around his heart had been shattered once more. Watching her die in his arms had broken something inside of him that Daryl had not truly thought he would ever get back; the ability to truly love another person. But, there he was, lying in bed next to a woman that he loved more than anyone else in the world and on the verge of becoming a father. If someone had told him six months ago what his future held, Daryl would have snorted with laughter and growled something about that outcome not being very fucking likely, but somehow it had happened. That night, long after Mia had drifted off to sleep, Daryl followed suit with a genuine smile of happiness plastered on his face.

Hours later, far enough into the night that day was just waking up and painting the darkened sky with dark blues and rusty orange brush strokes, Daryl was shaken awake with enough force that he halfway fell out of the bed in search of his crossbow. However, before he stumbled along in a sleepy haze to arm himself, he realized that the commotion that woke him up from a surprisingly deep sleep was just Mia.

“What is it?” Daryl grumbled, his voice thick and gravelly with sleep. Rolling over to face her, he perched up on his right elbow and scrubbed the palm of his left hand over his face, the roughened skin scratching loudly against the scruff that covered his cheeks. “Something wrong?”

“Feel,” Mia ordered excitedly as she snatched his hand away from his face and placed it low on her stomach, just above the slightly lacy elastic band of her underwear. “Do you feel it?”

He did not have to ask Mia what she was referring to, since she had been adamant on getting him to feel the baby kick ever since he came home. Sadly, each and every time she felt their baby moving around he was either too late to feel it himself, or she just was not far enough along for anyone but her to feel the movement. However, something changed in that moment, either their baby was ready to have its daddy feel its kicks and rolls or he had been in the right time at the right moment, because beneath his palm Daryl could feel something rolling around inside Mia's stomach and it was a feeling that he truly would never be able to explain.

Tears welled in Daryl's eyes and he sniffled while trying to reign in his emotions, although if feeling his baby move for the first time was not a reason for a good case of happy tears, he did not know what was. “Yeah, I feel it,” Daryl finally replied, his words laced with emotion as he sniffled once more. Sliding his palm upwards, he pushed the sleep shirt that Mia wore up and over the swell of her belly and leaned over to press his lips against the taut skin that stretched over their baby.

Mia's fingers curled in the long hair at the nape of his neck as he murmured to their baby, completely at ease with the closeness between the two of them, despite the fact that she had yet to let him see her without her clothes on, much less be intimate with him. At first he had chalked up her reluctance to the distance that had grown between them while he had been running from his feelings, but that small amount of awkwardness disappeared quite quickly and in its place a sense of comfortableness had settled over the two of them nicely. They were doing the little things that couples did besides sex; hand holding, cuddling and an intimacy that came from simply lying in bed together without the promise of sex. It was nice, he had to admit, but damn if he was not a man, too, and his body was begging for more than a nice snuggle at the end of a long day, but Daryl was not the type to push for more than what his partner was willing to give.

His lips were pressed to the warmth of Mia's belly when their baby placed a well-aimed kick and he felt the push of her skin against his lips. Smiling, he turned his head to glance towards Mia and asked, “What's it feel like?”

“At first it was just a roll and a little pressure, but lately I can feel it more,” Mia replied, covering his hand with her own. Daryl could just make out the soft smile on her face as she spoke, thanks the slowly rising sun just outside the window. “It feels weird and wonderful and strange. I can't really explain it. All I can say is they're quite energetic the past couple of days.”

“They?” Daryl asked, damn near choking on his words as he sat up in shock. Until that very moment, he had only ever heard Mia refer to their baby as a 'he' or a 'she', sometimes interchanged, but at no point in the past twelve days had he heard her refer to a 'they'. “You mean there's more than one?”

“I think so,” Mia murmured, clearly edging into the conversation with an equal amount of wariness to match his shock. Easing up to a sitting position, she pushed down her sleep shirt to cover her stomach and scooted back to rest again the pillows along the headboard. “The nurse, Myra, and Mae are pretty convinced, too. Doc Allen refuses to speculate, but I think he thinks the same thing as we do.” Mia paused and stared at him, nervously chewing on the edge of her bottom lip for a few seconds before asking, “Are you okay with that? I didn't mean to say anything until we were certain, because I didn't know how you'd feel about it, but you've got to admit that I'm a bit big for just one baby. I mean, unless I'm having a twenty pound kid that rivals a Thanksgiving turkey or something.”

“Yeah, I'm good with it,” Daryl finally answered, honestly okay with the revelation now that his mind had had time to process it, but judging by the look on Mia's face his words had obviously lacked conviction. After a deep breath, a calming moment he definitely needed, Daryl placed his hand back on Mia's stomach and said, “Don't care if you got the whole starting lineup of a football team in there, I'm gonna be right here for all of it.”

With his hand gently placed on Mia's stomach, he placed his other hand on the mattress and used it as leverage to lean forward and kiss her. Warm, soft lips pressed against his and a near silent groan of appreciation slipped between them when he started to pull away. Mia's fingers tangled in the long hair at the nape of his neck, the locks long past needing a trim, before she tightened her hold and pulled his face back towards hers so she could capture his lips again.

Daryl moved his hand away from her belly and placed it on the other side of her on the mattress, bracing his weight as he leaning over Mia and eagerly fell into the kiss that she demanded. He let loose a deep moan of arousal as she suckled on his bottom lip, nibbling lightly before biting down and then sucking it back into her mouth once more. The whole thing would have been far more sensual, had his elbow not chose that exact moment to give out beneath his weight and cause him to lose his balance and nearly sprawl across Mia's belly. Thankfully, he caught himself before falling, but Daryl realized that what had previously worked for them was not going to work in her current condition.

“We can't do this, can we? I'm too big,” Mia groaned and frowned, even though she had not put on much weight at all, if any, since his return. “I waited too long, didn't I? I'm the size of a house and it's going to ruin sex.”

“Ain't nothing ruining it,” Daryl replied, his voice now thick with arousal and no longer tainted with sleep. Assessing the situation, he reached out for Mia's hand and pulled her up into a sitting position and said, “We gotta get you undressed.”

Pulling her sleep shirt over her head, Daryl tossed it to the floor while he stood up long enough to yank off the pajama pants he had located in his old room. As he crawled back onto the bed beside Mia, he relished the sight of her naked body as his eyes raked over every single inch of the pale and tattooed skin as she stretched out before him. Her breasts were rounded, heavier and fuller than they had been the last time they'd had sex, a generous perk of pregnancy.

In the soft, golden glow of the rising sun, Mia's nervousness and shyness at being exposed to his gaze was evident in her gaze, but there was also the burn of arousal evident in the hungry was she eyed his naked body as he settled himself between her thighs. Leaning into her body, Daryl kissed the smooth skin of her rounded stomach, before he slowly kissed a trail down to the apex of her thighs. He felt her body tense up again briefly when his lips lowered to cover her moist, heated center, but relax and sigh with pleasure when he licked along the juncture and suckled at the nub nestled beneath a thatch of chestnut colored curls. Smiling against her, Daryl licked and nibbled and suckled the delicate, sensitive area until all of Mia's concerns about being naked in front of him while pregnant disappeared. Writhing beneath him, her breathy moans of desire slipping past her lips caused his dick to harden to the point of pain, but he kept on in his quest for her pleasure. Tenderly, he slipped a finger inside her and curled it slightly, pressing against her inner wall until she was teetering on the precipice of coming undone. Daryl slowly eased in another finger inside of her, stretching her open gently, while suckling the swollen nub that had Mia clutching the sheets at her sides tightly. When she finally came, bucking against his lips as pleasure crashed into her, Mia struggled to contain the cries of passion that ripped from her mouth.

Wiping his hand across his lips, Daryl crawled up Mia's body and kissed her; letting Mia taste her passion on his lips. Her belly brushed against his, a reminder that things were a whole hell of a lot different this time around and that there usual positions were not going to work. Settling himself on his side, Daryl stretched out beside Mia and helped her situation herself so that her back was pressed against his chest; ass to cock, a position he would not mind exploring another day.

“You good?” he asked, murmuring his question against the shell of Mia's ear, earning himself a moan of desire, an nod of the head, and a barely decipherable answer of eagerness in return. Smiling against her neck, he buried his face against the sweat moistened hair at the nape as he eased Mia's left leg up over his own, before positioning his cock at her entrance.

Wet and hot, Mia was beyond ready for him, but Daryl reigned in his eagerness and eased inside of her body slowly; stretching her inch by inch until he was fully seated inside. He slid his arm beneath hers and cupped his hand over the swell of one full breast, teasing and lightly pinching her pert nipple the way she liked it. The pace was slower, more sensual, than the previous times they'd fucked. This time they moved against one another languidly, making love as the morning finally woke up just outside the window; bathing their naked bodies in all of its golden glory.

Mia moved her hand from where she clutched at his hip awkwardly, to cover his hand that held her breast and slipped her fingers between his to hold on tight. The moved together, the languid movements becoming more frantic as their climaxes rushed forward; meeting one another thrust for thrust, the sounds of their naked flesh slapping against each other filled the room and mingled with the moans and grunts of their desire. His heart pounded in his chest, his mind swam with desire as they worked together to push over the edge. Daryl dipped his head, buried it in the curve of her neck and bit down gently as the pressure built deep inside and spilled over; shattering, coming completely apart with Mia wrapped tightly in his arms.

As they came down from the high of their release, neither of them made any attempt to move. Instead, Daryl pressed a kiss to the sweaty nape of Mia's neck and held on to her tightly; as though she might disappear from his arms otherwise. There was a pressure in his chest, a swelling and subsequent tightening that could only be described as love, because otherwise he had no definition for what he was currently feeling.

A half of a second before his sleepy eyes drooped closed for a much needed nap, Mia asked softly, “We're okay, right? We're going to be okay.”

“More than good,” he replied in a gravelly whisper against the softness of her skin as he murmured his words against the curve of her neck. “Me, you, and them babies, we're gonna be more than good.”

Reaching over Mia, he tugged one of the blankets that lay on the opposite side of the bed in a crumbled mess to cover their naked bodies. The sun might be fully awake, the rest of the lodge might be making their way downstairs to start the day, but damned if they were going to. All Daryl wanted at that moment was to continue holding the woman he loved in his arms, to keep her and the babies that she carried as close to his heart as he possibly could, and sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments last week! I'm sad to say that next week will be the final chapter, but I do feel that it's time for me to take a break from TWD fanfic, as my motivation has been waning a great deal. I'm not sure if it's to do with my recent schedule change and subsequent exhaustion, or if I'm just tapped out all together. I have actually planned out an entire story line for a new Buffy fanfic, which is really strange since I haven't written anything new in that fandom in nearly 10 years.
> 
> Anyway, be looking for the epilogue next week!


	70. Chapter 70

_“I am with you.  
I will carry you through it all.  
I won't leave you, I will catch you.  
When you feel like letting go,  
Cause you're not alone, you're not alone.”_

__

_Red “Not Alone”_

Always an early riser, Mae Jackson rolled out of bed long before the sun made an appearance for the day. Typically, that meant that she was subjected to a solid hour or more of sitting around waiting for everyone else to wake up and start the day, as well. However, thanks to the addition of her grandbabies there was plenty to do in the mornings. And yes, both of those adorable babies laying in their cribs next door were her grandchildren, regardless of the fact that she did not share a stitch of blood with their parents.

Since their birth a little over six weeks ago, Mae had gotten into the routine of tiptoeing into their bedroom, which connected to Daryl and Mia's via an adjoining door, and watch them sleep peacefully in the cribs that had been used by the previous babies that had been born at the lodge and no longer needed them. She enjoyed the feel of them in her arms as she rocked them in their sleep, the scent of their downy hair as she pressed her cheek against their heads and kissed them goodnight, and their precious whimpers as they held on to her fingers tightly while she rocked them.

After changing out of her nightgown and dressing for the day and twisting her long, gray locks into a bun at the nape of her neck, Mae stealthily sneaked out of her bedroom and slipping into Carter and Drew's bedroom. Careful to be as quiet as possible, she eased the door shut, turned to walk towards the cribs and caught sight of a figure sitting in the rocking chair to the side of the room near the window. Startled, not expecting anyone to be in the room so early, she realized the person in the chair was Daryl and said softly, “You should be resting when they do, that way you're not so exhausted.”

“Ain't gonna be able to sleep again. Not 'til they're older anyhow,” Daryl replied, his scratchy voice spoken as softly as he could. Mae heard the sound of his hands scrubbing over his face, roughly rubbing against the bristles of his facial hair and a subsequent sigh of defeat; the sound a parent makes when they realize that their sleep will forever be ruined by the small child they had brought into the world. “I got this fear that if I don't watch 'em, they'll disappear.”

“I'll let you in on a secret,” Mae said as she sank down onto one of the two full sized beds in the room. “All parents feel that way and it never stops. My son has been gone from me nearly as long as he was in my life, between deployments and the outbreak. I don't even know if he's alive, but I still worry about him every single day. It's what parents do.”

“Not all of them,” Daryl replied with a derisive snort. Silence followed and Mae did not pry, she had already concluded that the childhood Daryl had been subjected to was not a happy one, but unless he wanted to confide in her about it, she was not going to force the subject. After a moment, he glanced over at her and asked, “You ever think he's over there alive? Your son? You ever let yourself think that?”

“All the time,” Mae replied honestly. “To think otherwise would be to give up hope and if we don't have hope, what do we have?” As usual, the thought of her son, the only child that life had blessed her with, sent a pang straight through the middle of her heart. Taking a deep breath, she steadied herself and added, “Brian's a capable man, always has been. I think he's kept himself alive, if not out of sheer stubbornness. I just pray he's carved out a life for himself, found someone to make a life with and moved on. As I told Mia, he would want her to be happy and I know she wants the same thing for him.”

“Makes you wonder what it's like outside of here,” Daryl pondered, pushing up from the rocking chair to step over to one of the cribs and peer down through the faint silvery moonlight washing into the room to stare down at one of his sons. “Or what it's gonna be like later for us, years from now. Is it gonna go away? Are my kids infected, too? They gonna have it hard as we’ve had it?”

“I've got to believe that things will improve. If I don't hope for the best and work each day to make it better, then what's the whole point? Why have we fought this long?” Mae stood up and took a step towards the opposite side of the crib and reached over to place her hand on top of Daryl's as he held on tightly to the edge of the wooden crib. “We keep fighting, we teach them how to keep going. That's all we can do.”

“I just- I want them to have more than I did, what I got,” Daryl admitted as he slipped his hand from beneath hers so that he could lightly smooth the tips of his fingers across the downy, blonde hair of Drew's head. Named after Mia's father, Andrew, Drew had the pale hair that Daryl had when he was a child and the other, Carter, had darker hair like his uncle, Micah. Twins, but not identical, they had many similarities but plenty of differences, even in infancy.

“They already do, dear. They have you,” Mae said with heartfelt honesty, her eyes sparkling with tears as she witnessed the love pouring out of Daryl as he watched his son's sleep. “Just continue to love them with all of your heart and they'll have the world.”

“I love her, you know,” Daryl said without bothering to look up to Mae. He continued to stroke his fingertips over Drew's hair. “Didn't think I could love her more than I already did, but then she gave me them and somehow I do.” Glancing up at Mae through a shock of dark, shaggy bangs, he added, “They make me a better man.”

“You can't imagine how happy it makes me to hear you say that,” Mae said with a smile and added, “Why don't you go back to bed and get some sleep? And, when you wake up, spend some time with Mia and tell her that yourself.” When Daryl opened his mouth to argue with her, she shook her head and ordered him, “Go. Spend time with her while you can, because when these little ones are mobile you won't be able to find a minute with one another. Now, go, I've got them until they wake up hungry.”

Pleased when Daryl turned to head towards the closed bedroom door that connected their rooms, she was shocked when he paused in front of her, stared at his feet in awkward silence for a half a second and suddenly wrapped his arms around her; gifting her with a rare moment of physical contact that he rarely gave anyone else. Feeling special, she kept her comments to herself, knowing it would only embarrass him, and returned the embrace. Adding a gentle, motherly kiss to his cheek, before he slipped away into the darkened bedroom to hopefully rejoin Mia in bed, Mae felt her heart swell with love at the family she had gained after the end of the world; something she had not thought possible as she had watched the world crumble around them over seven years earlier. As she checked each baby boy to make sure they were sufficiently comfortable, she could not help but hope that her own child had managed to do the same thing.

*~*~*

Approximately seven thousand and four hundred miles away, in the dusty, hot desert that was Kabul, Afghanistan, Brian Jackson patrolled the wall along Camp Phoenix as he did every day since the outbreak had spread through the region like wildfire. Easily half of the soldiers stationed at the base had died within the first year after the mysterious disease started claiming lives, and easily claimed more than that outside of the reinforced walls of the NATO military installation inside the capital of Afghanistan.

Years later and death had all but claimed the majority of the largest city in Afghanistan and dwindled the numbers of soldiers to a fraction of what had been there the week the infection had started to eats its way through the country. At first, as reports of a mysterious disease that caused the dead to rise again with a thirst for human flesh and blood started coming in through the radios and televisions, Brian's unit had tried their best to get sent home. However, once word got back to the base that there were reports of the same outbreak on every continent and flights were grounded, hope of ever returning home grew smaller and smaller with each passing day. Eventually, all hope was lost as governments started dropping napalm in hopes of containing the disease. However, now major cities were destroyed and populations detonated, but the disease still continued to claim the dead with each death; bringing the corpse back to life shortly after death.

And so, Brian and his fellow unit members were stuck and, the ones that were still alive were currently still very much stuck in the dusty shithole. The only saving grace was that there were stockpiles of rations on base, plus weapons and ammunition, enough so that they were able to go out in groups and scavenge whatever else they needed to survive. Over time, they rescued who they could and brought them back to base with them, the grounds now made up of locals and soldiers that had finally learned to live with one another. The war their governments had started had long since faded away and in its place was a continuous fight between the living and the dead.

Sitting in the guard tower, Brian wiped a rag across his sweaty brow and stared out across the desolate horizon to see nothing but sand and destruction. It was the same thing he had stared at for the past fourteen years of his life, since his first deployment at the young age of twenty. Back then, he had left his newlywed wife with the delusion that he was going to help change the world, but now he understood that the world would change itself and there was nothing he could do to alter that. The world had a history of cleansing itself, the current outbreak and misery that followed was just one of many disasters since the beginning of time and the world always found a way to survive; to move on.

Moving on. Something he had fought against since the world fell apart. Moving on meant putting his previous life behind him and accepting that he could not change his situation in life, that he was a stuck as stuck could be and never getting home to his wife, parents and friends. His heart ached for Mia, even after all the years they had spent apart, and he would never stop loving her, but with time came the realization that life had to move forward to heal. And so, he had gave in to the temptations of a local Afghan woman he had rescued from a crumbling building years earlier.

Amena was beautiful beneath the scar that streaked across the left side of her face, a constant reminder of an abusive husband in her previous life, but her love and passion shone through the horrors she had suffered. She had been pregnant when he had found her, although he could not tell beneath the billowy burqa she had been forced to wear since she was barely a teenager, and he had not found out for months after when she had finally started to show. Still resistant to forming a relationship with anyone else, Brian had kept her at arm's length for years after the birth of her daughter, Safiya, but had taken the young girl in as his own when he had finally allowed his heart to love another woman. Sadly, as with Mia, Brian had not been able to get his new wife pregnant, but their lives were full of love for one another and the child they shared together and that was enough for the both of them.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Safiya playing soccer with a group of children and smiled at the innocence that children were able to find even after the end of the world. He prayed that the world would continue to heal itself and that the children at the base, and the ones that would be born after that current moment in time, would find the happiness that he had experienced as a child.

And, as he did every day, he prayed for his loved ones back home. He prayed that his parents had not suffered too horribly during the outbreak. He prayed that his friends, Gage and Micah, had survived and found the happiness he had managed to find. And, most of all, he prayed that the love of his life, Mia, had found the courage to move on without him, as he had finally done. He prayed that she was alive and well, happy and safe.

Lifting the dog tags that rested against his chest beneath his stained, desert tan t-shirt, Brian pressed the ring that jangled against the tags to his lip. He kissed the wedding ring that Mia had picked out after they had eloped and said a silent prayer to her, as he did every day, and wished her the best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it folks, the finale of Mia and Daryl. I have to say, I really enjoyed writing this couple and helped me forget about Sam and Daryl for a while (Need You Now characters that I seriously loved and miss writing, if you haven't read it.) I hope everyone enjoyed the story and Daryl's happy ending after the horrible crap a certain twisted writer put you guys through with the prequel, Running Wild. That author is just sadistic, I tell you. *insert evil grin*
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who was kind enough to read, rate and, especially, review. I loved hearing what you guys thought through the whole journey. Also, a big thank you to GrimesGirl63, who left comments on every single chapter! I truly appreciate it!
> 
> That's it for now, folks. Hopefully my muse returns with more ideas for Daryl stories, but for now I think she's tapped out.


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